Baby Miracle In The Er. Sue MacKay

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СКАЧАТЬ in against that expansive chest, tightening her hands into fists, rocking on her toes, flattening her mouth, staying away.

      This was Michael—the man she’d worked with, laughed and joked with, shared one intense night with while they’d walked and talked for hours about a wee boy who’d died under his care. A night that had ended in making love for hours and which had led to more nights of wonder until—ping!—it was over. Gone in a quiet conversation about responsibilities and life and not getting involved.

      He was one of the reasons she’d scarpered out of town and away from the job she’d loved, leaving her family and friends, renting out her house, to head to Queenstown where she knew no one. One of the reasons. Another of those reasons had also raised its sorry head today. Obviously a day for reliving the past. Great—just when she was starting over. Again.

      There’d been a lot of starting over during the last two years. Which might explain this sinking sadness pulling at her. As if she was being tested to see if this was what she really wanted.

      Yes, she did. As she had every other move. And every time the excitement and certainty had run its course and left her confused and a little more lost. But this time she was back home where she belonged for good. This was where her family was, her best friend, her past: the good and the ugly. It had to work out or she had no idea what else to do with herself. She had to accept once and for all that she would never have her own baby.

      ‘Ready to go, Steph?’ Kath appeared in her line of sight.

      ‘More than.’ She almost choked on the words. The need to be busy doing something—anything—was beginning to suffocate her. ‘Good to see you again, Michael.’

      She acknowledged the man beside her, ignored the disappointment filling his eyes, and headed to the ambulance bay without a backward glance. The only safe way to go. She’d got that first meeting out of the way—now she could move forward, box ticked. But first she needed to pull herself together and look the part of a happy woman tearing through life like there was no tomorrow.

      * * *

      Michael stared after Stephanie, absorbing the protectiveness he’d felt for her the moment he’d laid eyes on her, wanting to banish whatever had caused all that hurting going on, knowing he couldn’t unless he was prepared to let her close.

      Stephanie Roberts really was back in town. Rumour had warned him—reality frightened him. He’d been prepared as much as possible to see her, had been ready to say Hi, how’s things? and get on with his day. He hadn’t been expecting the slam of recognition from his body at the sight of her, the intense longing for her to be at his side, with him throughout...everything.

      What he wanted now was to wipe away that pain, bring on a smile full of warmth—not that tight I-am-not-hiding-anything grimace that actually hid nothing. Forget staying uninvolved. At least until she was smiling again.

       What’s wrong, Steph? What happened to throw you against that wall like you couldn’t stand up by yourself?

      He knew her as a strong woman who didn’t buckle easily. Or so he’d believed. Something had undermined that strength today.

      His jaw clenched. Tension rippled through his muscles. Did her mouth still tip up higher on the left side when she gave a genuine, big-hearted smile? He’d thought he’d conquered those sweet memories of how he wanted to sing and dance when she smiled. Of how her toffee eyes were easier to read than a toddler’s book. Of how calm he felt around her.

      She’d never asked anything of him—except to go to a football match with her which, when interpreted, had meant have a future together. That had scared the pants off him and had had him hauling on the brakes fast. Getting in too deep hadn’t been an option. He hadn’t been able to give her the certainty she deserved, the ‘for ever’ she wanted.

      Yet five minutes standing beside her, worrying about what was wrong, and it was as though the mantra he lived by had vamoosed.

      He shook his hands, flexed his fingers, worked the tension out of his gut. There hadn’t been a lot of ease between him and Stephanie just now. Nor a lot of smiling. Stephanie’s eyes, laden with sadness—or was that despair?—and the colour draining from her cheeks had been like a rugby tackle around his knees.

      Had she made the wrong choice when she’d swapped scrubs for a paramedic’s uniform and that was what was getting to her? No, there was depth to that sadness—close to deep pain. That didn’t come from changing jobs...not even for dedicated Stephanie.

       Why aren’t you back here working with me, Stephanie? Us? When did you cut off all that long, thick blonde hair?

      ‘How’ve you been? Really?’ he asked her shadow as she turned the corner into the ambulance bay.

      He’d missed her.

      Not that he was admitting it. No way in hell.

      A recollection of gremlins haunting her on bad days nagged at him. Shame he couldn’t recall the story of what had gone down in her life before he’d joined the department. He had an aversion to rumours and liked facts. And today the key to all this was there, swinging just out of reach. To catch it he had to follow up on today and track her down for a catch-up.

      Or he could wait, since they’d be bumping into each regularly if she was operating out of the local St John base. So, no catch-up needed—which meant he could dodge a bullet.

      They’d worked well together, had been friendly, and apart from those intoxicating two weeks had had little to do with each other outside of the ED. Best it was left like that. She’d handed in her notice a fortnight after they’d split and he’d felt uneasy ever since. As though he’d lost the one chance of real happiness he’d had because he hadn’t been prepared to put the past behind him and take a stand.

      ‘Shouldn’t you be knocking off?’ James, head of the next shift, nudged him. ‘Unless you’ve got nothing better to do than hang around staring after Stephanie Roberts—which surprises me.’

      Why? Any man with blood in his veins would be doing the same—which kind of said James had ink in his. Something to be grateful for.

      ‘I’m on my way.’

      Not that he had anything planned for the night. Doing his washing didn’t count, and getting some groceries would take care of all of twenty minutes. Both his close mates were tied up with babies and wives and apparent domestic bliss. Lucky guys.

       It’s all yours for the taking if you want it.

      He didn’t. One divorce was one too many on his life CV. Besides, there were already more than enough complications going down outside of work that left no time for him to care about anyone else. But...

      The word was drawn out. But sometimes he wished he was going home to someone special—someone to love and be loved by with no qualification. Instantly Stephanie came to mind.

      Jerking his head up, he snapped at James, ‘Have a busy night. Catch you tomorrow.’

      Immediately he felt a heel. If this was what briefly seeing Stephanie did then he couldn’t manage spending any more time with her. He’d be a wreck within hours.

      Charging through the department to his locker as if he had the СКАЧАТЬ