Читать книгу Winter Wonderland Wishes: A Mummy to Make Christmas / His Christmas Bride-to-Be / A Father This Christmas? - Abigail Gordon, Abigail Gordon - Страница 13

HEATH WOKE AT four and lay staring out his window to the dark sky that was softly lit by a haze-covered moon. He knew the warm air outside would be heavy and still. He rolled onto his back and lifted his arms above his head and thought back over the previous two days, since Phoebe had fallen into his arms.

He didn’t want to be thinking about her—and especially not at four in the morning, lying in bed—but her face wouldn’t leave his mind. When Phoebe had been close to him—close enough for him to smell the scent that rested delicately on her skin and close enough to see the sparkle in her beautiful green eyes—he had struggled to remember why he didn’t want a woman in his life on any permanent basis.

But that was something he had to remember. Particularly now.

His life had begun to change since he’d arrived back in Adelaide.

He had worried for a little while that the life he had built with his son, just the two of them, might not be enough for Oscar one day. And he feared now that that day was almost upon him. But he didn’t want to lose control. Once before he had lost control of a situation—lost his wife and almost lost his mind. He wouldn’t let it happen again. He needed to remain in control and not blindly accept change.

And he couldn’t accept Phoebe as the catalyst for that change.

He was more than concerned after seeing how comfortable the family had been with her. It was moving too fast for him. He had to put the brakes on the level of intimacy he thought they were all building with her. It needed to stop immediately. The air-conditioning repairman had notified him that the work was completed at the practice and while there were no patients booked in until the next day, he would send Phoebe a message just after nine and ask her to call into the practice to go over the patient notes. That would serve his purpose.

He needed to remind her why she was there—and it wasn’t to grow close to any member of his family, and particularly not his son. It was a relationship he didn’t want to see develop and risk it being torn apart when they headed back to Sydney and Phoebe headed back to her home country.

Phoebe woke early, picked up the paper and was halfway through the crossword when she got the call just after eight.

‘Hi, Phoebe—it’s Tilly. Would you like to jump in a cab and have breakfast by the pool with us? I’d pick you up, but by the time I load the diaper gang you could already be here.’

‘I’m not sure …’ She hesitated to accept the invitation. ‘This is your time with Oscar. I don’t want to infringe on that.’

‘Nonsense. I would love to chat to another adult. Away from the surgery my days are filled with nursery rhymes and potty-training, and Oscar could do with another set of eyes on him while he’s in the pool. It is hard with three of them, and my stomach is in a knot trying to keep a watch over them all. At their age it’s a bit like herding cats.’

‘Well, if you’re sure I can help, I’d love to.’

‘It’s settled, then,’ Tilly said. “See you soon—and don’t forget your swimsuit.’

Half an hour later Phoebe was alighting from a cab at Tilly’s home and a very happy little boy was opening the front door before she’d even reached the doorbell. He was wearing his swimsuit, dry flippers and goggles on the top of his head.

‘Hi, Phoebe! Have you got your bathers?’

‘Bathers?’ she asked as she walked up the paved entrance towards him.

‘He means swimsuit,’ Tilly said as she invited Phoebe inside. ‘In Australia we call a swimsuit bathers. You’ll get used to our funny expressions soon enough.’

Phoebe smiled at her hostess, then turned her attention to Oscar, ‘Yes, I have my bathers—so I hope you’re wanting to swim, because in this weather I do!’

Phoebe didn’t hear the three text messages from Heath because she was splashing in the pool with his son, and Melissa and Jasmine were excitedly screaming from the sidelines behind the child-safe fence, blocking out all other sounds. Oscar’s floating armbands were in place but Phoebe didn’t let him go for even a second. They’d had a lovely morning, stopping only for some juice and freshly cut fruit, after which Oscar walked Phoebe around the garden, collecting insects in his bug catcher.

‘I only keep them for a few hours, then I let them go back to their daddies … and their mummies. I think some of them have mummies too.’

‘I’m sure some of them have both, and some just have a mummy or a daddy,’ Phoebe said, then fell silent as he continued walking, collecting and talking.

Oscar suddenly seemed very deep in thought for a five-year-old, and it worried Phoebe a little.

‘My mummy died when I was very little.’

Phoebe felt herself stiffen as he delivered this news. ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Oscar.’ She paused to gain some composure as her heart went out to the little boy. ‘I’m sure she’s looking over you every day.’

Phoebe had not considered the prospect that Heath might be a widower. She wasn’t sure why it hadn’t occurred to her, but now she knew it did go part way to explaining why he was such a serious man, who appeared only to lighten up around his son. Losing his wife and the mother of his child would have been a life-altering tragedy.

‘I was very little. I couldn’t talk or walk and I don’t remember her. But I know her name was—’

‘Hello, you two.’

Heath’s deep voice suddenly called from the back door, interrupting their conversation and making them both turn abruptly.

Phoebe felt her stomach drop. Then it lifted, and then spun as her heart fluttered nervously. She’d thought she had her reactions to Heath under control, but suddenly she discovered she didn’t.

But she had to.

Somehow.

‘Hello, Daddy!’

‘Hi, Heath.’

Heath quickly crossed to them and dropped to his knees. ‘I’m sorry, Oscar, but I’m going to have to take Phoebe to work with me.’

‘But we’re having fun, Daddy, and I want her to stay. She showed me how to swim like a bug and …’

‘Swim like a bug?’ Heath asked, turning to Phoebe with a curious look on his face.

‘The butterfly stroke,’ Phoebe said as she looked at this man whom she now knew had suffered the tragedy of losing his wife. It did put a different filter on the way she saw him, but she didn’t want him to know that. He seemed too stoic to want pity—in fact she suspected pity would drive him into a darker place.

Despite what she now knew she didn’t want it to colour her feelings towards him. She wasn’t looking for love and he was obviously still grieving. Although she was grateful for the insight, as she would understand his motives a little better and make their working relationship easier. She just had to get her emotions under control. And he was dressed again, as he had been the night before, so it made it easier to concentrate.

‘How did you know I was here?’ she asked, trying to mask how sad she felt for them both. And how equally drawn she was to the father and son.

‘Well, you didn’t answer your phone, so on the off-chance that my sister had convinced you to visit I called her and she said you were swimming with Oscar. Unfortunately I’ll have to cut that short and ask you to head back to the surgery with me.’

‘Like this?’ She looked down at her swimsuit covered by a sarong. She had chosen not to wear her bikini that day, and had slipped the one-piece swimsuit under her sarong before she’d left her house. ‘But if the air-conditioning isn’t running maybe this is the right thing to be wearing.’ She tried to be lighthearted. Friendly. At ease. Everything she wasn’t feeling.

Heath had tried not to look at her body, but he couldn’t help but notice how stunning she looked. He definitely didn’t want to be alone with her at the practice in the outfit she was barely wearing.

‘Perhaps not,’ he replied, trying to avert his eyes from her petite curves. ‘I can drop you home to change, if you’d like.’

A little while later, after a quick stop at her house for a change of clothes, they sat reading through the patient notes in the cool surgery. The newly repaired and efficiently running air-conditioner was working perfectly, but Phoebe had the distinct feeling that this activity wasn’t really essential. They were straightforward records that could easily have been read through prior to her meeting with each patient.

She wondered if it wasn’t so much her being at the practice that was important but perhaps more her not being at Tilly’s house with Oscar. She wasn’t sure why but she said nothing, and continued to concentrate for the next two hours on the records that Heath was explaining in great detail.

Occasionally she would glance at the man across from her. His chiselled jaw, with a light covering of stubble, was tense. There was no half-smile. She realised there was no chance of a full smile and she knew why. Despite her resolve to keep it professional, still she felt her heart pick up speed a little when their eyes met by accident. And at that time, they both paused for only a moment in silence. She didn’t know how he was feeling or what he was thinking but there was something Heath was keeping to himself.

And she suspected it was his heart.

Finally she left to go home. It was a short walk, and she wanted the time to clear her head. She now knew that Heath was still suffering from the loss of his wife and although she also knew that Oscar had been little when his mother had died she wasn’t sure exactly how long ago it had happened. Three years? Four years? Even five?

But there was one other thing she knew. Heath must have loved his wife very much, and if it had been half as much as he clearly loved Oscar then, although her life had been cut short, his wife had been a very lucky woman to have known that deep a love and commitment. It was something that Phoebe knew she had never experienced. And probably never would.

‘Why don’t you guys move here permanently?’ Tilly asked, sitting down and pouring herself a cold soft drink after dropping Oscar back at her father’s later that day. Paul had arrived at her home to mind the twins for a little while. ‘I adore Oscar, and I’d love Mels and Jazzy to grow up with their big cousin to keep the boys at bay. I think it makes complete sense.’

‘My thoughts exactly,’ Ken agreed, while admiring the stunning violet and red hues of the setting sun. The lighting provided a canvas for the silhouettes of the towering gum trees that surrounded his home and the scent of eucalyptus floated in the night air.

But Heath didn’t notice anything. He could still remember the scent of Phoebe, sitting so close to him at work, could see her beautiful face, and nothing he did was successful at pushing those images from his mind. He could vaguely hear the mutterings of his father and his sister, but none of it registered. His mind was consumed by thoughts of Phoebe and he felt uneasy. Her sweetness. Her sincerity. She had stumbled into his world and into his arms quite literally, and for some inexplicable reason he couldn’t shake her from his thoughts. But he wouldn’t break another rule. He had to ignore this fleeting infatuation.

Heath came back to the conversation to see two sets of eyes on him, seeking answers. He didn’t like the fact that a family inquisition was developing on the back porch because there was another one going on in his mind and one was more than enough to endure. Two would certainly send him crazy.

‘The air-con is now working and that’s all that matters. Let’s leave it at that. Phoebe is a surgeon, in town to meet the terms of her employment contract. And, by the way, Tilly, she can’t be your babysitter.’

‘My babysitter? That’s a little unfair. She knows no one, and she was alone in her house, and I thought she’d enjoy a swim and a chat. And, FYI, Oscar totally commandeered her for the better part of two hours and that was not my plan—it was his.’

‘Well, I’m here only until Dad’s knee mends. End of story. So I hope Oscar doesn’t get comfortable with the current arrangements. It’s all only temporary.’

With that Heath stood up and went inside to find his son. Reading him a story was always a highlight of his day, but that night it would also serve as his avenue of respite from the barrage of questions about Phoebe.

And for a short while it might also silence those inside his head.

‘I like Phoebe,’ Oscar told his father as he went to turn out the light. ‘She’s neat.’

‘As in tidy?’

‘Daddy, you’re being silly. Not tidy. She’s fun—and she makes you happy too.’

Heath was taken aback by his son’s words. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Well, I saw you smile. You don’t smile very much. I always thought you were sad, but now that Phoebe comes over you’re happy more. That makes me happy too. It’s almost like we’re a family—like Aunty Tilly and Uncle Paul.’

Phoebe called London after she’d eaten her takeaway dinner. She wanted to chat with Susy and hoped with the time difference that while it was evening in Adelaide she would catch her young barrister friend before she left in the morning for court in London.

‘Phoebs, how are you?’

‘I’m great—how are you, Susy? And how’s work? Anything interesting that you can talk about?’

‘I’ll put you on loud speaker—trying to finish my make-up before I rush out the door.’

‘If it’s not a good time I’ll try another day,’ Phoebe said as she rested back into the three soft white pillows on her bed.

The ceiling fan was moving the air above her and Phoebe had opened a window on the approaching darkness. She knew she would be in air-conditioning all of the next day and she wanted to sleep with fresh air, even if it was a little warm.

‘No, I’m good to talk. Nothing to report. There was a guilty verdict in the grand theft case, which I was thrilled about, and today I’m selecting the jury for a new IT case. Possession of data with intent to commit a serious offence. Same old, same old.’ Susy laughed. ‘I do love my job. We’ve been securing a high percentage of convictions lately, so it makes it all worthwhile. Unfortunately there’s never a shortage of bad guys needing to be put away. But let’s forget about me—how are you on your adventure Down Under?’

‘It’s hot—melting hot, to be accurate.’

‘Well, I don’t feel even a teeny bit sorry for you, if that’s what you’re hoping for. I spent last night in my Wellingtons, overcoat and scarf, shovelling snow off my car in case I need it in an emergency. I’ll take the Underground into London again today. So, my sister from another mother, stop complaining—’cos while you’re over there, getting a suntan, I’m warding off frostbite!’

Both women laughed.

Then Susy’s voice became momentarily stern. ‘Seriously, Phoebs, has the creep left you alone? And your mother—is she finally coming to terms with the fact that Niles won’t be a member of the family?’

‘It’s Giles …’

‘I know … but I prefer to disrespect him at every opportunity, and forgetting his name is a start.’

‘I promise he’s out of the picture completely. Mother is still not convinced, but I’ve given up on telling her that cheating is a deal-breaker.’

‘Absolutely,’ Susy agreed, in her prosecuting barrister tone. ‘Guilty, charged and dumped. I do wish there was a way to lock him and those tarts away. Pity there’s no legal avenue to put the lot of them behind bars and throw away the key.’

‘In a perfect world there would be, but I’m trying not to think about him any more. Just onwards and upwards. I’m starting work tomorrow with … Heath.’ Phoebe stumbled over his name.

‘I thought you were working with Ken Rollins? Who’s Heath?’

‘His son, actually. Ken needed emergency knee reconstruction. His son’s a podiatric surgeon too, so he’s stepped in to help out for the next few weeks.’

‘I hope you’re not disappointed? I know you were really excited to be working with Ken.’

This was now the third time she had been asked and still her answer remained the same. Disappointed, no … confused, yes … and now she was feeling a little melancholy about what had made Heath the man he was.

‘I was looking forward to working with Ken, but I’m sure Heath will be an equally good operator.’

‘So good to hear you back to your old optimistic self, Phoebs. I’d love to chat and hear all about Heath, but I have to dash. The Underground waits for no one,’ Susy said. ‘Hope sonny-boy is not too nerdy or dull—but it’s only for a few weeks. Talk tomorrow. I’ll call you.’

With that, Suzy hung up.

Nerdy? I wish … Dull? Not in anyone’s book. In fact she had to admit that Heath seemed perfect … if a little battle worn.

Heath arrived at the practice early the next morning. He had a surgical list beginning at one, with two post-operative patients and two new patients in the morning. Phoebe’s day was light—three morning patients and two in the afternoon. Heath had arranged it that way to allow her to settle in.

Generally December was not busy, as most patients delayed non-urgent treatment, particularly surgery, until after the busy holiday season. By the time her patient numbers increased Heath knew he would be back in Sydney and his father would be back on deck.

‘Good morning,’ Tilly greeted her brother as she dropped her bag behind the desk. ‘Loving the cool air in here.’

‘It’s great, isn’t it? Not sure the landlord will be thrilled when he sees the invoice, but it’s worth every penny.’

‘Dad owns the building. He’s the landlord.’

Heath laughed. ‘Yes—and hopefully I’ll be back in Sydney when he gets the bill in the mail. I had it completely overhauled and replaced the motor.’

‘I think he can cover it.’

‘Not sure about that, since he has the most expensive receptionist in the country.’

Tilly rolled her eyes and smiled. ‘You’re in fine form today, Heath. Be nice to your sister or I’ll walk out—and then you’ll be lost without my administrative wizardry.’ Heath headed back to his consulting room, and on the way checked that everything had been prepared for Phoebe. Her patient list was all in order. He had set up her log-in details for the computer and given her access to the database with the patient notes. The room was spotless. Although he refused to admit it to himself, he wanted to impress her.

‘Hi, Phoebe,’ Heath heard his sister say cheerily from the other end of the practice.

‘Hi, Tilly,’ Phoebe replied. She stepped inside, feeling apprehensive and nervous, as if it was the first day at school. ‘It’s a lot cooler than a couple of days ago in here.’

‘Hopefully we can avoid doctors and patients fainting,’ Heath said as he walked briskly down the corridor and into the waiting room.

‘Good morning, Heath.’

‘I’ll show you to your consulting room.’

Phoebe could sense that he had slipped back into his cool demeanour again, but he wasn’t quite as cold and she did not take it personally.

‘I’ll try not to faint on the way,’ she said, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Heath smirked, but because he was leading the way Phoebe didn’t see. Her view was his broad shoulders, slim hips and the long stride he was taking. And, despite not wanting to notice, it was the best damn view she had seen in days. In fact the last time she had seen anything so impressive was in the very same man at the pool.

‘Nancy Wilson?’ Phoebe called into the waiting room.

A young woman stood up and followed Phoebe into her consulting room, hobbling a little and clearly in pain.

Phoebe closed the door. ‘Let me introduce myself, Nancy. I’m Dr Phoebe Johnson and I’ve stepped in to help Dr Ken Rollins for the next few months. Please take a seat.’ Phoebe had briefly read the patient’s notes and was aware of her medical history of chronic heel pain. ‘I see you have undergone some reconstructive treatments with Dr Rollins.’

‘Yes, but it hasn’t made a permanent improvement.’

‘I see. Did you find any of them had long-lasting benefits? I know it was more invasive, but was the plasma therapy successful from your perspective? Or did you prefer the low-intensity shock wave treatment?’

‘Both were good—but only short term. I’m an ice skater. I hope to compete for Australia in Switzerland in nine months, so I need to be back on my feet and out of pain to train in Europe and then compete. At the moment it feels like there’s a pebble in my left shoe when I walk. On really bad days it’s like a shard of glass.’

‘They are common descriptions of the problem. Please come over to the examination table and I’ll have a look,’ Phoebe said, and assisted the young woman to the narrow table against the far wall. She moved a small step into place with her foot to help Nancy climb up onto the bed. ‘I appreciate you’ve tried the conservative approach, and to be honest, Nancy, sometimes after all else fails there’s no choice but to choose corrective surgical treatment.’

Phoebe eased the soft boot and sock from the woman’s left foot and then, slipping on surgical gloves, began her examination. Although the conservative restorative treatments to increase blood flow and break up scar tissue had assisted temporarily with pain management, Phoebe decided that surgery was the only option.

‘Unfortunately your plantar fasciitis has not improved with past treatments, and your ice skating training has, according to your notes, been compromised for a number of months now.’

‘Yes, I do train, but only for short periods, and then I require ice, cortisone, and when all else fails codeine to manage the pain—and then I lie in bed for hours some days.’

‘Heavy doses of pain relief or cortisone are not long-term options for anyone, but particularly not at your age, Nancy. Nor is being incapacitated in bed an option for an athlete. Your condition is almost epidemic in the United States, with one in ten people suffering from varying degrees of heel pain from scar tissue, and it appears this approach is no longer viable for you, considering your lifestyle. We’ll need to proceed to the next level on your treatment plan, so you can move forward with your career.’

‘Surgery is fine by me. I just want to get it over and finished and get back on my feet—literally.’

Phoebe gently put the sock and soft boot back on the young woman and helped her down from the examination table. She explained the risks of surgery, confirmed that Nancy was in general good health and a suitable patient for surgery, and then walked her out to the front desk for Tilly to make the hospital arrangements and for Nancy to sign the consent forms.

Heath had just seen off his first patient for the day, and was at the reception desk checking up on a late arrival.

‘Were you part of the medical team assisting the disabled athletes at the international games last year?’ Nancy asked Phoebe as they waited for Tilly to check the surgical roster at the Eastern Memorial, where Phoebe would be operating.

‘Yes, I was—but how did you know? The games weren’t held in Australia.’

‘My older brother Jason’s a weightlifter. He lives in Detroit with his wife and baby daughter,’ Nancy continued as she offered Tilly her credit card for the consultation payment. ‘He suffers from congenital amputation of his left leg below the knee, and he had a similar issue to me with his right heel the night before his heat. I remember he told me about a consultation he had with Dr Phoebe Johnson, the podiatric surgeon with the American team. Once I heard your accent I assumed that there couldn’t be two of you in the same specialty.’

‘No—not that I’m aware of anyway,’ Phoebe replied as she finished signing the notes so Tilly could book surgery the following week. She turned back to Nancy. ‘Being involved with the teams was a wonderful experience. Can you please give my best to Jason? If I remember correctly he won a medal—was it silver?’

‘Yes, and he was thrilled to win it. He swore that if it wasn’t for you and the treatment you provided to alleviate the pain he would have pulled out and wasted almost four years of training.’

Heath walked back to his office, unavoidably impressed with this experience that Phoebe had kept close to her chest and not put on her CV. She was even more unforthcoming than him!

He wondered what else he didn’t know about his temporary associate. And he still wondered if this small inner-city practice would prove enough of a challenge for her …

The morning was steady, and by lunchtime Heath was preparing to leave for his afternoon surgical list at the Eastern Memorial. Aware that Phoebe’s last patient for the morning had left, he knocked on the open door of Phoebe’s consulting room.

‘Come in, Tilly.’

Heath paused. ‘It’s not Tilly.’

Phoebe turned from her computer screen, where she was reading through the notes for her first afternoon patient.

‘Sorry, Heath—come in.’

With only fifteen minutes before he had to leave for the hospital, he wanted to catch up and see how her morning had progressed. And he just wanted to see her but couldn’t admit that even to himself.

Before he had a chance to open his mouth, Tilly knocked on the door.

‘This time it has to be Tilly,’ Phoebe remarked as she watched Heath cross his arms across his broad chest.

‘Yep, you’re running out of alternative suspects now.’

Phoebe smiled, then asked Tilly to join them.

‘Sorry to interrupt, Phoebe, but your afternoon patients have both cancelled due to the extreme weather,’ Tilly told her. ‘So it looks like you’ve got the afternoon off.’

‘Oh, no. That’s disappointing,’ Phoebe said, slumping into her chair and not masking her feelings. ‘I feel so guilty, being here and doing nothing.’ She had a strong work ethic and that made sitting around seem a complete waste of time for her and a waste of money for the practice. ‘I’ve had more time off since I arrived than I’ve worked.’

Heath considered her for a moment and then came up with a suggestion. ‘I have an idea to appease your misguided sense of guilt. Why don’t you assist me in Theatre over at the Eastern Memorial this afternoon? I have three on the surgical list and I could do with an extra set of hands—but we’d need to leave immediately.’

Phoebe sat bolt-upright and answered with an unhesitating, ‘Yes!’ as she reached for her bag. ‘Let’s go … I’m all yours.’

Heath nodded, but his body abruptly reminded him that if his life had played out differently and Phoebe really was all his there would be far more pleasurable things he would do with her that afternoon.