‘We’ll wait,’ he repeated, then took her hand and led her out of the darkness, seeing the redness of her well-kissed lips, the glow of colour in her cheeks, and the doubt that shadowed the happiness in her eyes.
Back on the footpath, hands unlatched, they walked briskly up past the hospital and onto the path to the old nunnery.
‘I’m sorry to be such a wuss about this,’ she muttered as they reached the place where she’d disappeared before. ‘But I really don’t know where I stand and whether the adoption could be threatened and—well, I don’t know anything at all right now—my brain’s stopped working.’
‘It’s been a long day,’ Mac told her, although what he really wanted to do was kiss away the hopelessness he knew she was feeling.
‘Too long,’ she agreed, then straightened up and actually smiled at him.
‘Thank heavens I invited Shan back for the night. It means the two of them will be shut away in Nikki’s room and I can sneak in without a post mortem of the evening and an inquisition on why it took us so long to get home.’
He smiled and touched her dimple.
‘Good luck with that,’ he said, and watched as she did the disappearing thing again, although this time he did see the door through which she vanished.
Izzy made her way slowly up to the flat. She knew her hair would be a mess but hoped, in case she did run into Nikki or Shan, she didn’t look as well kissed as she felt.
It had been a mistake, kissing Mac, but that oh-so-light touch of his lips on hers had weakened her to such an extent she could do no more than slump against him, and lift her lips...
For more?
Of course for more!
The man was right, this attraction—or chemical reaction—that had sizzled between them from that first meeting on the beach was too strong to be ignored.
Yet ignore it she should.
Unless he was right, and having a quick affair might let it fizzle out...
How quick was a quick affair?
Nikki probably knew more about relationships than she did—from second-hand experience admittedly.
Not that she could discuss this with Nikki...
Or anyone really...
Although—
She ran her mind quickly over the much-loved people she considered sisters and brothers. Lila had absolutely no experience with men, determined to find out who she was before she became someone else as part of a pair. Marty was an expert on affairs and would undoubtedly say, Go for it, Iz! because that was how he lived his life.
Stephen, now...
Sir Stephen they’d always called him when they wanted to tease, because of all of them he had family that actually wanted him—two families, in fact—wealthy ones at that—two sets of grandparents fighting for the right to bring him up, in and out of courts, while Steve fitted himself awkwardly into Hallie and Pop’s chaotic family.
She had no idea about Steve’s love life. Nikki’s mother had always been the one closest to Stephen, living with him in Sydney off and on, infuriating him with her behaviour, her addictions, her irresponsibility. Yet he’d always taken her in whenever she’d needed a bed, helped her when she’d needed help.
Perhaps that’s why he’d been so good to her, Izzy, when she’d struggled with Nikki as a baby. And remembering that, she knew he’d say don’t jeopardise the adoption!
She sighed. Fat lot of help her family were!
She showered, ran a comb through her hair, and climbed into bed, exhausted by the day and the emotions but unable to sleep because the kiss played over and over in her head, remembered ripples and tremors of desire tormenting her body.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MAC FELT AT a loss, arriving at the hospital the next morning to find it an Izzy-free zone. A quick check of the rosters showed she wouldn’t be on until two, which was, he decided, probably a good idea.
But a recent idea?
He checked again and, yes, there’d been a shuffle in the rosters.
Was she avoiding him?
Had she spent the night reminding herself of all the reasons why getting involved with him could harm her adoption plans?
His night had been tortured not by nightmares but by thoughts of a single kiss, and by images of where that kiss might lead in the future.
Not that he had reason to be optimistic. He was well aware just how important Nikki was to her, and understood her reluctance to jeopardise the adoption process.
But even if they had to wait—surely what was just paperwork couldn’t take too long...
‘Are you with us or off with the fairies?’
He looked up from his desk where he’d been staring blankly at Izzy’s name on the roster, and assured Abby he was all present and correct.
‘Very army,’ she said. ‘Anyway, there are people stacking up in the ED for antibiotic shots and although Aisha—a local GP, have you met her?—is helping out, it’s getting hectic.’
‘Yes, I’ve met Aisha and, yes, I’ll come,’ he said, pushing himself up from the chair, pushing away memories of a splinter of time beneath the huge old tree, and turning his mind to what lay ahead.
At least he’d checked on Rhia and the Watsons when he’d first arrived, pleased to see the little girl was no worse.
Somehow he and Aisha got through the flood of panicky residents, many of whom, he guessed, hadn’t had any contact with the Watsons, and by the time they stopped for a late lunch things had settled down. But Izzy’s arrival coincided with the local ambulance, bringing in a ten-year-old boy who’d fallen in the school playground, suspected broken arm.
Izzy heard the ambulance approaching as she walked down to work. No flashing lights and sirens but she knew its noise as well as that of her own car.
Would Mac be in the ED, alerted ahead of the new arrival?
She’d woken in a stupid panic, unsure how to face a man with whom she’d shared such a fiery kiss the night before, and, given how the rosters had been disrupted the previous day, it had been easy to switch her shift time.
But she had to face him sometime—face him in daylight or the bright lights of the hospital—and put the kiss behind her. Behind them both.
The ambulance attendant was bringing a small boy through the doors, a white-faced, frightened small boy clutching at his right arm, which was stabilised in a sling.
Izzy went to him immediately, all thoughts of kisses gone from her head.
‘And what have you done to yourself, Kurt Robson?’ she teased, kneeling beside him and putting her arm around his shoulder.
‘Fell over, that’s all, but it hurts.’
‘Of course it does.’
She looked up at the ambo.
‘Have his parents been contacted?’
‘His mum’s on the way.’
‘That’s great, isn’t it, Kurt?’
Kurt’s face suggested it might not be that great.
‘Mum might be angry,’ he muttered. ‘When I hurt my foot she was. She said I was playing too roughly, but this time, truly, I just fell over.’
‘That’s okay, we’ll sort things out with Mum.’
‘We gave him seven mils of paracetamol for the pain but that’s all he’s had,’ the ambo said, handing the paperwork over to Izzy and heading for the door, and probably a late lunch.
Kurt’s mother and Mac arrived at the same time, one through the front ED entrance, the other from the hospital.
‘He had a fall,’ Izzy told Mac, trying desperately to remind her body that this was work and she could handle colleague-to-colleague stuff for all that her blood was singing through her veins at the mere sight of him.
Who knew what a casual touch might do?
Turn her brain to mush, that’s what, she realised when he brushed against her as he, too,
knelt to talk to the boy.
Okay—enough’s enough!
She breathed deeply and moved away to greet Mrs Robson, then Mac was by her side, speaking quietly to her.
‘It should just be a simple X-ray; we do that here, don’t we?’
Izzy nodded, the deep breath not quite stabilising her yet.
‘I can actually do a bit more than that. With my pre-med degree I added a thirteen-week radiography course—before Nikki. We don’t have an MRI machine but we can most other radiography.’
‘Wonder Woman!’ Mac teased softly, undoing the small amount of good that deep breathing had effected.
‘Not really,’ Izzy responded, letting a little of the irritation she was feeling because of him seep into her voice. ‘You’re probably just as capable of most radiography stuff as I am. Every doctor can do a simple X-ray.’
He grinned at her but she refused to be charmed.
Colleagues, they were colleagues! She’d work out the rest later.
Much later...
But thoughts of charm and singing blood disappeared when Izzy shoved the X-ray film into the light box. The same picture would be on the screen at the ED’s front desk and she knew Mac was looking at it there.
‘Mac!’
He came immediately and she wondered if he’d seen what she’d seen and realised it wasn’t something to discuss in front of the Robsons.
‘What are you seeing?’ he asked, and she pointed to the fine line that showed a break in the humerus.
‘That’s the obvious one, but look at the elbow joint—isn’t it slightly distorted?’
Mac ran his finger over the picture then turned his attention to the shoulder joint.
‘That seems loose as well. Has the boy had other fractures, do you know?’
‘None that have been reported here, but he said Mum got angry when he hurt his foot.’
‘Okay, let’s get him back in here and look at the foot,’ Mac said, leaving with a touch on her shoulder that was so light she might have imagined it.
She heard him talking to Mrs Robson and Kurt, explaining they wanted to do some more checking.
‘Is there anyone in your family that’s had broken bones before?’ he was asking Mrs Robson.
‘Well, most kids do, don’t they?’ she said. ‘I know I had a broken leg when I was younger.’
‘And you went mad at me when I hurt my foot!’ Kurt put in, and his mother laughed.
‘Mothers worry,’ she said, patting down his unruly brown hair.
Mac lifted Kurt onto the X-ray table while Izzy focused the camera over the foot he’d hurt earlier. Mac escorted Mrs Robson from the room while Izzy checked she’d get what she wanted.
‘Hold still again,’ she said, slipping into the side room and pressing the button to activate the camera.
She took different angle shots, propping the little foot with foam pads, and when she was satisfied she returned him to his mother, who by this time was getting anxious, although someone had given her a cup of tea and plate of biscuits.
This time they studied the shots on the computer in the radiography office, enlarging details so they could easily see the two metatarsals that had thickened areas where breaks had healed.
‘Brittle bones?’ Izzy asked. ‘I’ve heard of it but wasn’t sure it existed as a condition.’
‘OI,’ Mac replied. ‘Osteogenesis imperfecta—there are eight levels of it, with the first four being the most common. OI One is the best to have, and probably what young Kurt has, and often people can go through all their lives without knowing they have it.’
‘Genetic?’ Izzy asked, so absorbed in learning something new that the fact that she was shoulder to shoulder with Mac wasn’t bothering her at all.
‘Usually, but not always. The problem is, we could set his arm but with OI I’m not sure that it shouldn’t be pinned. I think someone said the other day that there’s an orthopaedic specialist in Braxton.’
‘Paul Kent,’ Izzy told him. ‘Very good. Should we get the ambulance back to take them?’
Mac had straightened and now turned towards her, a slight smile greeting her question.
‘I think that’s best, don’t you? Although it leaves Mrs Robson stuck there without a vehicle.’
Colleagues, Izzy reminded herself, ignoring the effect of that slightest of smiles.
‘If Paul decides to operate, Mrs Robson will want to stay anyway, and her husband has a ute so he can take over anything they need when he finishes work.’
Mac nodded and left the room, leaving Izzy to turn off machines and tidy up.
He was on the phone to the specialist when she returned to the ED and the ambulance was pulling in.
‘Can I phone someone to pick up your car?’ she asked Mrs Robson, who shook her head.
‘I’ve called my sister—she only lives down the road, she’ll walk up and get it. She has the extra set of keys to it and the house so she can pack things for me and Kurt—better than my husband would.’
She smiled and Izzy realised that however Mac had explained the situation it had left the woman at ease, not anxious and distracted as many mothers would be.
‘Osteogenesis imperfecta—I like learning new things,’ she said to Mac as the ambulance departed. ‘I know we covered something about brittle bones in the course I did but I’m sure I didn’t hear that name.’
‘It’s not that common,’ Mac told her, ‘but learning new things—well, that happens all the time.’
She knew he was teasing—suggesting—but also knew she had to ignore it. That kiss last night—and where it might lead—was something she had to think seriously about.
‘Then I’d better go and learn new things about what’s been happening at the hospital all day. I haven’t even signed on for my shift, let alone had any kind of handover.’
‘Of course,’ he said, and something in his voice told her he understood she was backing off, trying to ignore what had happened between them.
Mac headed for his office, only too aware that there was paperwork multiplying on his desk, pleased to have a really boring distraction.
Seeing Izzy—a far from boring distraction—had reminded him that a relationship with a colleague was not a good idea. In fact, it was a dreadful idea! Especially when he was new to the job of being a civilian doctor, and really needed to concentrate on doing that job well.
Belle came in with a message for him. Paul Kent had received the X-rays and would phone him after he’d seen Kurt.
He thought of Izzy repeating the diagnosis, her face alight with learning something new, and his gut knotted.
The thought of not having a relationship with that particular colleague was far too depressing to even contemplate. Somehow they had to make this work—not only the being colleagues part of it but the hesitation they both felt about involvement.
Very reasonable hesitation!
‘Are you sighing over the paperwork?’ Belle asked, bringing in a sheaf of more bumf. ‘One thing I can tell you, if you don’t get onto it, it just multiplies. Worse than rabbits, paperwork.’
He laughed but knew what she said was true, so he set aside all thoughts of the redhead beetling around somewhere in the building and concentrated on sorting the urgent from the non-urgent, the notices of new procedural policy from the important things that needed a response.
Izzy started her catching up with a visit to Rhia. As Mac had said, she was holding her own, although she was still pale and from the chart slightly feverish. Ben was in the room with her.
‘I’ve sent Sally home to get some sleep.’
He twisted his hands together as he spoke then looked up at Izzy.
‘She will get better, won’t she?’ he asked, and the desperation in his voice touched Izzy’s heart.
‘We’ll do everything we can to make sure she does,’ she promised. ‘She’s getting the best of care, the drugs we’re giving her will be fighting the infection, and...’
She hesitated, mainly because she hated making promises she couldn’t keep.
‘They usually win,’ she finished, hoping he had missed the pause. ‘It just takes time,’ she told him, ‘so you and Sally have to look after yourselves because even after she’s out of here, she could need a long convalescence.’
‘We’ll make sure we’re there for her,’ Ben promised. Then his head lifted again and his dark eyes met Izzy’s. ‘I know all parents think their kids are special, but she’s especially precious to us. Sally had a couple of miscarriages before Rhia and hasn’t been able to get pregnant since. We’ve thought about IVF because we’d love another child, but we’d have to go to the city, and it’s so expensive.’
‘It’s becoming more affordable, so who knows,’ Izzy told him, not mentioning that her brother Steve was already talking about setting up a private IVF clinic right here in Wetherby.
She smiled as she thought about his grandiose plan of building a relaxing seaside resort where couples could stay while they underwent fertility treatment or IVF programmes. He believed that the failures in IVF conception were often brought on by stress and his clinic resort could alleviate a lot of that.
So Steve was in her mind when she ran into Mac in the tea room.
‘Shouldn’t you be at home, cooking up a Moroccan delicacy? Your shift’s long finished.’
‘Paperwork,’ he said succinctly, turning from the urn where he was making a coffee to offer to make one for her.
‘No, tea for me at this time of the evening,’ she said. ‘I don’t need any stimulants to keep me from sleep tonight.’
He found a teabag and made her a tea, raising a milk bottle in silent query.
She shook her head and he passed her the rather battered mug.
Inevitably their fingers touched, and he raised his eyebrows as he asked, ‘Something keep you from sleep last night? Stimulation?’
A Forever Family for the Army Doc Page 10