Читать книгу A Father for Her Baby - Sue MacKay - Страница 8

CHAPTER ONE

AS SASHA WILSON reached the first sharp hairpin bend on her descent from the top of Takaka Hill into Golden Bay she eased off the accelerator, moving even slower than her previous snail’s pace.

A shudder rolled through her chilled body, nothing to do with her friend’s entreaties for her to move back to the city where her biggest mistake ever lived but all about the treacherous road conditions. While there was frost on her heart, it was the black ice at every corner and coating most of the road that required her undivided attention right now. As it had done for the more than five hours she’d been driving home from Christchurch. Where her headlights swept the grass and tree-covered banks, blinding-white frozen water glittered back at her.

‘Winter sucks,’ she growled, and swiped the back of her glove-covered hand across the condensation on the windscreen. ‘If only it wasn’t so important to be back for work in the morning, I could’ve waited until the weather cleared.’ Then her voice softened and her hand briefly touched the bump over her stomach. ‘At least you’re tucked up nice and warm in there, Flipper. And safe from that selfish man who accidentally fathered you. The man who wanted me to terminate you.’

Gasp. ‘Wash my mouth out.’ Flipper wouldn’t pick up on her thoughts, would she? Because no matter her own opinion of the man who would remain nameless, she wasn’t ever going to visit that on her daughter.

Gripping the steering-wheel, she continued her diatribe. ‘It’s like someone threw a switch on my life. Winter’s always been about chasing the best snow and hurtling down ski slopes, and going to those amazing après-ski parties to rub shoulders with some of the best skiers in the world.’

Not any more. Her skis were in a cupboard at the back of her parents’ shed. Her fancy outfits were folded away in cases filling the wardrobes in the tiny cottage she now lived in on the edge of the family orchard.

‘We don’t even like the cold, do we, Flipper?’

The baby kicked none too gently.

‘You’re quite the swimmer, aren’t you?’ Sasha smiled as she sucked in a breath. ‘The inside of my tummy must be bruised purple from your feet.’ Pregnancy was amazing. Every day seemed different. She already loved her little girl. Completely and utterly. Fiercely. She’d protect her with her life.

On the radio a song finished and the announcer piped up in his false cheery voice, ‘Coming up to eleven-thirty on the clock, folks. I hope each and every one of you is tucked up warm and safe by now.’

‘I wish. Big time.’ Sasha flicked a glove-covered finger in the direction of her radio. ‘You obviously haven’t listened to your station’s weather forecast, buster. It’s been blowing a blizzard up and down New Zealand for most of the day and some of us are struggling to get home in the resulting chaos.’

Successfully negotiating a tight bend, she let relief spread through her. ‘One down.’ The relief evaporated instantly. ‘Plenty more to go.’ If only she was pulling up outside her house now. She was so over this trip.

A new, cheerful song filled the interior of the car as Sasha leaned forward to peer through the windscreen. ‘It’s hideous out there, Flipper.’ Not even the possums were out partaking in their nightly forage for dinner. She shivered and hunched her neck down into the warmth of her leather jacket.

Her mouth stretched wide as she yawned. She was tired beyond tired. The long drive down to Christchurch on Thursday, the pre-wedding celebrations, in which, as bridesmaid, she had an active role, and then the wedding yesterday—she’d been on the go non-stop for three days. And then today’s endless drive from hell. If only keeping her job wasn’t so important that she had to get home. But it funded her decision to return to the one place on earth where she felt safe, where there were people she could trust, where her family lived. Where Mum needed her.

Golden Bay with its small township of Takaka had become her bolt-hole, the place where she could lick her wounds and harden her heart, the district she wanted to settle down in and raise her daughter. Earlier she’d briefly considered calling one of the doctors she worked for and explaining that she’d be a day late getting back, but they’d been adamant she had to prove her reliability if she wanted to get a permanent position at the medical centre. No days off for anything except illness, she had been told on more than one occasion. Her reputation from her long past high-school days just wouldn’t go away. Small communities had a lot to answer for. But that was why she was here, that sense of a blanket being wrapped around her and keeping her safe and warm had also drawn her in.

Another yawn lifted her shoulders, filled her lungs. Rubbing her eyes, she spoke loudly in an attempt to banish the loneliness suddenly enveloping her. ‘Hey, Flipper, ready to tuck up under our quilt? I know I am.’ She really was nuts, talking to the baby like this. But it made a change from yakking to herself all the time. And it was good to talk to her baby even before she was born, right? Who cared? She’d do it anyway. There’d be people who said it was the right thing to do, and others who’d say she was bonkers.

‘Unfortunately the cottage will be cold enough to freeze the boll—’ Oops, mind your language in front of the baby. ‘It’d be great if your grandma has gone down to light the fire for us. But somehow I doubt it. She doesn’t trust the safest of fireboxes.’ Mum had always been overly cautious. Mum. Sasha’s mouth drooped into the antithesis of a smile while her eyes misted.

‘What has Mum ever done to deserve the disease slowly wrecking her life, taking over her body?’ she asked around the lump clogging her throat. Her beautiful mother, who’d always been there for her and her brother, refusing to accept the disease taking hold in her body would never let go.

Sniff, sniff. Life could be so damned unfair. Sasha’s hands tightened on the steering-wheel as she leaned forward, all the better to see, but it didn’t make the slightest difference. This final stretch of road seemed interminable.

‘What the heck?’ Red lights blinked from the edge of the road ahead, right on the bend of the next hairpin. Random. Definitely out of place. Suddenly her heart beat a rapid rhythm.

‘I don’t like the look of this.’ Her bed beckoned even harder. Swallowing a yawn and resisting the urge to slam on the brakes, she gently slowed to a stop right beside the rear end of an upside-down truck poking up from the bank it’d gone over. ‘Bad parking.’ But hardly surprising, given the hazardous road conditions. And why she hadn’t relaxed at all despite getting close to home.

Sasha carefully turned her vehicle so the headlights shone onto the wrecked truck, with its black tyres pointing up into the night. Downright eerie. A shiver ran down her vertebrae. For a brief moment she wanted to drive on home to that cold bed and not face what might be waiting in that buckled cab. Not because of her need to be home safe but because all the years working in emergency departments hadn’t dulled the fear she might fail someone who desperately needed her help. Neither did her nursing experience make seeing people suffering any easier to deal with. She felt for them, had cried tears for them.

‘Get on with it,’ she said. ‘You can do the emotional stuff later when everyone in that vehicle’s safe.’ Because the truck hadn’t driven itself off the road, and the glowing headlights suggested it hadn’t happened long ago.

None of that stopped her muttering, ‘Please, please, be empty.’ Her churning stomach mocked her. ‘Okay, then be safe, not seriously injured.’

Tugging her woollen hat down around her ears and pulling at the zipper on her jacket to try and close the gap caused by her baby bulge, she hauled in a lungful of warm air before elbowing the door open and gingerly stepping down onto the frozen road. Instantly her feet skidded sideways and she grabbed for the door, hung on as she righted herself. This wouldn’t be a picnic, and these days, with Flipper on board, she had to be extra, extra careful.

Her cheeks instantly tightened from the cold, while her unease increased. Initially the night seemed silent but now the cracking sounds of hardening ice became apparent. Or was that the truck shifting?

‘Nice one, Sasha. Scare yourself, why don’t you? Move your butt and stop overthinking the situation.’

Collecting her medical kit and the heavy-duty torch she always carried, she gingerly crunched over to the edge of the bank, and gasped. In the half-light the Golden Bay Freight Lines logo on the side of the truck was distorted but readable. Sam and Lucy Donovan’s truck. ‘Sam, is that you? It’s Sasha.’

‘Help me.’

‘Sam, are you on your own?’ Please, she muttered. Talk about needing a lot of favours in one night.

‘No, the missus is with me. She’s hurt bad, Sasha.’

Damn, damn, triple damn. The Donovans were the greatest neighbours her parents had ever had, always there for them, there for her too nowadays whenever she needed help with Mum’s orchard. Which she didn’t. Not because she was stubborn or anything. Of course not.

Sam hadn’t finished with the bad news. ‘I can’t move my legs.’

‘I hear you.’ First she needed to get more help. Fast. Her heart sank. What were the chances there’d be cellphone coverage? But she couldn’t do this on her own. ‘Has anyone driven past since you went off the road?’

‘Not that I heard.’ Sam’s voice cracked. ‘Hurry, Sasha. Lucy’s bleeding from the head.’

Things were looking up. Not. Her heart squeezed for the middle-aged couple stuck in that cab. ‘Sam, you’ll have to hang in there while I get the rescue crews on the way out.’ She swallowed her growing worry. Like worrying helped anybody. Thinking logically was the only way to go.

Tugging her phone free of a pocket, she touched icons. No coverage. Sasha glared upward at the stars blinking out of the now-clear sky. ‘Thanks very much. Can’t someone up there make it a little bit easier to save my friends?’

Crunch, crack. She jerked. Had the truck moved? ‘Sam?’

‘Sounds like another car coming.’

Yellow light slashed across the white landscape, swept over her. Relief poured through her tense muscles. She glanced upwards again. ‘Okay, I take it back. Looks like there was already a plan in action.’

A car pulled up beside her. The driver’s window opened a crack. ‘What’s going on? You need a hand, lady?’ a voice she didn’t know asked.

I’m not standing out here for the hell of it. The air in front of her face turned misty as she sighed. Give the guy a break. At least he stopped. ‘A truck’s gone over the bank with two people inside. We need emergency services urgently.’ The risk of hypothermia was enough to want to rush everything, to drag Sam and Lucy out regardless of injuries. Which was so not how to go about rescuing them. ‘I’m not getting reception. Can you call it in from further down the hill? Or stop at the first house you see? Tell them Sasha Wilson is here.’

‘On my way.’ The car was already moving away, thankfully cautiously.

But as she watched the lights fade in the distance that loneliness grabbed at her again. Until help arrived, Sam and Lucy’s fate depended on her.

‘Your problem is? You’re a nurse. Not a bad one either. Get on with doing something practical. Sam will be getting desperate.’

With all the ice about the place she wasn’t in for an easy time getting down to the truck, something that never normally fazed her. But with Flipper to consider there’d be no leaping over the embankment like a surefooted goat. ‘Hey, I can do careful,’ she whispered. ‘This is one time where I have to go slow and steady.’ Now, there was a first. Her lips pressed hard together, the skin of her cheeks tight.

Maybe if she’d gone slow and steady with that greaseball back in Christchurch she’d still be up to leaping over edges without a care in the world. Might not have a baby under her belt. ‘Sorry, Flipper. I’m not trying to wish you away, sweetheart.’

Wrong time to be thinking about this, with the Donovans waiting for her. Taking a steadying breath, she let her medical pack slide down the bank. Then, with her torch gripped tight in one hand, she sat down on her bottom and shuffled and slipped down, too.

‘Hey, there.’ She mustered a cheery tone as she reached the driver’s door.

Sam blinked in the light from her torch. ‘Am I glad to see you.’

‘How secure do you think the truck is?’

‘I haven’t felt it move at all. From the sound when we hit I think we’re jammed against rocks.’

Some good news. At least they weren’t about to plummet down to where the road twisted across the hillside directly beneath.

‘Sasha, I’m real worried about Lucy.’

The fear in Sam’s voice had her squatting down by the shattered window to shine the torch inside. Blood had splattered over most of the interior. Lucy hung upside down, half in, half out of her seat belt, a huge gash across the side of her head.

‘She hasn’t said a word the whole time.’ Sam’s voice trembled. ‘What if—?’ he choked.

‘Hold that thought, Sam.’ Darn, but she hated it when friends were hurting. Placing her free hand on Sam’s shoulder, she tried for a reassuring squeeze. ‘I’ll check Lucy over. But what about you? Where are you hurting?’ At least he was upright, though what injuries he’d sustained when the truck had rolled didn’t bear thinking about.

‘To hell with me. Look after Lucy, will you?’

‘Okay. But keep talking to me.’ The way his voice faded in and out didn’t bode well. ‘Tell me where you hurt. Did you bang your head?’ He had to have, surely? ‘Are you bleeding anywhere? Stuff like that.’ Talking might keep him focused and make the minutes tick by a little faster than if he just sat watching and worrying over his wife. Really? That was the theory but theory often sucked. ‘Shine my torch so I can see what I’m doing.’

Hand over hand she grabbed at the edge of the truck’s grille and made her way to the other side. Not easy clambering over frozen rocks with a bump the size of a basketball under her jacket. Flipper must’ve got the seriousness of the situation because she’d gone nice and quiet with those feet. Automatically rubbing her tummy, Sasha muttered, ‘Thanks, sweetheart. Mummy owes you.’

Reaching through where the window used to be, she felt carefully for Lucy’s throat and the carotid. ‘There you go. Lucy’s got a pulse. She’s alive, Sam.’

One big sniff. ‘Thank you, lass. Can you get her down from that seat belt? I don’t like her hanging like that. Can’t be doing her any good.’

‘We’re going to have to wait for the rescue guys. I could do more damage than good if I cut her free.’ Tilting her wrist to see her watch, Sasha counted Lucy’s pulse. Slightly low but not too bad, considering. ‘You haven’t told me about your injuries yet, Sam.’

Carefully feeling Lucy’s head, neck, and arms for injuries, she tried to work out how long would it take for the rescue crowd to get here. How long since that car had driven away? Had the driver got that this was an emergency? Swallow hard. Toughen up. It would be at least forty-five minutes before anyone showed up. Make that an hour by the time everyone’d been phoned. Then there were the road conditions to contend with.

Focusing on diverting Sam’s attention—and hers—she said, ‘You and Lucy were coming home late.’

‘Been to tea with the kids in Nelson.’ He went quiet.

A glance showed his eyes droop shut. ‘Sam.’

He blinked. ‘Roads are real bad.’

‘Very dicey.’ It wasn’t the first time she’d driven this road in the aftermath of a winter storm, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Unless she changed her mind about staying in Golden Bay like Tina wanted. Now her friend was a happily married woman she seemed to think she had the right to fix Sasha’s life. Worse, the guy Tina had thought would solve all her present problems had been nice—in a wet blanket kind of way. Tina was probably making up for the fact she’d introduced the greaseball to her in the first place.

‘Sorry, Tina, but which bit of no more men for me didn’t you get?’

‘Who’s Tina? Is someone else here?’

‘Talking to myself. A bad habit I really should get over.’

Taking a thick cotton pad from her kit, Sasha taped it over Lucy’s head wound. Hopefully that would slow the blood loss. She kept prattling on about anything and everything in an attempt to keep Sam with her. Having him slip into unconsciousness would make it harder for the rescue crew to remove him.

Glancing at her watch, she stifled a groan of despair. Twelve-twenty. The rescue crews couldn’t be too far away now. Could they? What if the road was worse between here and Takaka? Don’t even go there. She knew those men, had gone to school with some of them, now worked with others. They would come through. It might take some effort and time but they’d be here as soon as it was humanly possible.

‘S-Sasha, h-how’s Lucy?’ Sam’s teeth clacked together as shivers rattled him.

Sasha winced. A couple of thermal blankets would be very welcome right about now for her patients. Her own toes were numb, her fingers much the same since she’d removed her gloves to attend to Lucy, and she wasn’t stuck, unable to move. At least Flipper would be warm. She answered, ‘Breathing normally and the bleeding’s stopped.’

After what felt like a lifetime flashing lights cut through the dark night. Relief slipped under her skin. ‘The ambulance’s here. Now we’ll see some action.’

The first voice she heard was Mike’s, one of the GPs she worked for at the Golden Bay Medical and Wellbeing Centre. ‘You down there, Sasha?’

She stood upright, grabbing the doorframe for balance. ‘Yep, and I’ve got Lucy and Sam with me.’

Before she’d finished telling him, Mike had joined her. Rebecca, one of the ambulance volunteers, was right behind him.

Mike asked, ‘What’ve we got?’

‘Sam’s legs are caught under the steering-wheel. Lucy’s entangled upside down in her seat belt.’ Sasha quickly filled them in on the scant medical details. Above them a tow truck pulled up, quickly followed by another heavy four-wheel-drive vehicle. Then the fire truck laden with men equipped with cutting gear and rescue equipment arrived. ‘I love it when the cavalry turns up.’

Mike grinned. ‘Guess it does feel like that. You want to wait in the warmth of the ambulance? Thaw out a bit before we send one of these two up to you?’

For once she didn’t mind being set aside so others could get on with the job. She wasn’t in a position to take the weight of either Lucy or Sam as they were freed and lifted onto stretchers. The strain might affect her baby in some way and that was not going to happen. ‘On my way.’ Though it wouldn’t be as easy going up the bank as it had been coming down.

Mike read her mind. ‘There’s a rope to haul yourself back up to the top, as you’re more of a small whale than a goat these days.’

She swiped at his arm before taking the end of rope he held out to her. ‘Thanks, Doc.’

‘Is that Sam’s truck? Is he hurt badly? Anyone with him?’ The questions were fired at her before she’d even got her feet back on the road.

Doing her slip-slide ballet manoeuvre and with a lot of men reaching for her, she managed to stand upright and steady. ‘Lucy’s unconscious and Sam’s fading in and out.’ Sasha glanced around at the mostly familiar faces, relief that they were here warming her chilled blood.

Then she froze. Like the air in her lungs had turned to ice crystals. The heat left her veins. Her eyes felt as though they were popping out of their sockets. Tell me I’m hallucinating. Her head spun, making her dizzy. Her mouth tasted odd as her tongue did a lap. Can’t be him. Her numb fingers hurt as she gripped someone’s arm to stay upright. Not now. Not here.

But, of course, she wasn’t imaging anything. That would’ve meant something going in her favour for a change. Grady O’Neil was for real. Eleven years older and more world-weary but definitely Grady. No mistaking that angular jaw, those full lips that were nearly always smiling—except not right at this moment—and... Her shoulders rose, dropped back in place. He hadn’t been smiling the last time she’d seen him either. When he’d told her he didn’t love her any more he’d had the decency to keep at bay that wicked smile that made her knees melt. The first man to hurt her. But he didn’t have that on his own any more. There’d been others. She so didn’t do well with picking men.

The urge to run overwhelmed her. Her left foot came off the ground as she began turning in the direction of her vehicle. Sliding on the ice and falling down hard on your butt would be such a good look. And could harm Flipper. Deal with this. Now. Breathe in, one, two, three. Breathe out. ‘Grady.’ She dipped her head. ‘It’s been a while.’

A while? How’s that for a joke? Why wasn’t he laughing? A while. Far too long. Huh? No. She meant not nearly long enough. Didn’t she? Oh, yeah, definitely not long enough. Yet here he stood, a few feet from her, as big and strong and virile as ever. And that was with layers of thick warm clothes covering that body she apparently still remembered too well.

You shouldn’t be remembering a thing about that amazing year. You’re long over him and the hurt he caused. True? Absolutely.

She fought the need to revisit Grady and everything he’d meant to her, instead aimed for calm and friendly, as though his unexpected appearance didn’t matter at all. ‘What are you doing here?’ Big fail. Her voice rose as though a hand gripped her throat. Memories from those wonderful carefree days she’d stashed away in a mental box some place in the back of her head were sneaking out and waving like flags in a breeze, threatening to swamp her.

Swallowing hard, she focused on now, not the past. Why had Grady turned up? Golden Bay was her territory. Not his. He’d only come for summer holidays and that had been years ago. He’d be visiting. But who? Not her, for sure. Her tummy sucked in on itself, setting Flipper off on a lap of her swimming pool, nudging Sasha every few seconds, underlining how unimportant Grady was in the scheme of things.

Sasha dug deeper than she’d ever done before for every bit of willpower she could muster to hold off rubbing her extended belly. She would not draw those all-seeing blue eyes to her pregnant state. That was hers alone to cope with. She certainly didn’t need Grady asking about her baby.

His smile seemed genuine, though wary. Which it damn well ought to be. ‘Hi, Sash. This is a surprise. I didn’t expect to run into you while I was here.’

Sash. That certainly set free a load of hot memories. Her nipples tightened, her thighs clenched. Grady still drawled her name out like he was tasting it, enjoying it.

He couldn’t be. He’d lost any right to those sensations the day he’d told her he didn’t love her enough to spend the rest of his life with her. Yet he was checking her out. Her pulse sped up as that steady gaze trawled over her, starting with her face and tracking slowly down her chin, her throat, over the swell of her breasts under the thickness of her jacket, on down to Flipper. As his gaze dropped further the breath she’d been hanging onto trickled over her lips. He hadn’t noticed the six-month bulge. Guess the thick jersey and heavy jacket she wore made her look larger than normal anyway.

Now his gaze had reached her legs—forever legs, he used to call them. Another memory leaped out of the box. Grady’s strong hands gently rubbing sunscreen from her toes to the tops of her thighs. Slam. The lid shut firmly.

Then Grady stepped right up to her and enveloped her in those strong arms she would not remember. Her head bumped against the chest she’d never found the likeness of again. And out of nowhere came the need to lay her cheek against him and tuck her hands around his waist. Even to tug that shirt free and slide her hands over his skin.

No, Sasha, you can’t. Are you that stupid you’ve forgotten his parting words? That memory never went into the box. That one you kept out in the open as a warning never to make the same mistake.

Except she had got it wrong again. Had learned nothing in the years since Grady. She jerked backwards. Too quickly for him to let go of her, so that her baby bump shoved forward, right into his solar plexus.

His head snapped up, those startled eyes registering shock. He pulled away from her fast, as though he’d walked into an electric fence. In the shadows and flashing lights from the emergency vehicles she saw a multitude of questions spinning her way. He pushed his hands deep into his jacket pockets, forced his chest out and splayed his legs slightly. Such a Grady stance. The don’t-mess-with-me posture even while his face showed how much he wanted to ask her about that bump.

Tough. Her baby had nothing to do with him. He’d want to know who the father was, no doubt wondering if it was someone he knew from way back when they had been part of a whole crowd of teens at the beach. He could guess all night long, he’d never get it right.

He looked away, looked back at her. Tugged one hand free and rammed his fingers through his thick hair. Stumped.

She blinked as her throat clamped shut on the delayed shock charging up her body, opening that box of memories again, wider than ever. I remember you very well, Grady O’Neil. Too well. I remember—too many things I’d prefer not to. The air trickled out of her lungs. Those memories were capable of melting all the black ice on the Takaka Hill road.

Why had she never considered this moment might happen? Because Takaka had been their playground only when they’d been teenagers knocking around together. Knocking around? That was one way of describing what had gone on between them. They’d been inseparable. Totally in love with the intensity of teenagers overdosed on hormones. She’d stupidly thought they’d be together for ever.

So wrong about Grady. So wrong about the greaseball she’d walked away from four months ago. She really needed a ‘how to’ book on establishing perfectly balanced relationships with the opposite sex.

She closed her eyes. Opened them. Nothing had changed. Grady still stood in front of her, questions blinking out, begging for answers. No way, sunshine. Not telling you. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she croaked, ‘I didn’t realise you knew Mike.’

‘I met him two days ago when I dropped by the medical centre. He and Roz invited me to have dinner with them tonight, which is where I was when this call came in.’

Jonty called from the open back doors of the ambulance, ‘How do we get these stretchers out of here?’

Saved by the fireman. Sasha hurried to clamber inside the wide vehicle and unlock the stretchers from the wheels they wouldn’t be using tonight.

‘Ta.’ Jonty grinned. Then pulled a grim face. ‘We’re bringing Lucy up first so you and Grady can do what you have to with her in the warmth of the ambulance.’

I have to work with Grady? Her skin broke out in goose-bumps, even as she gathered her strength around her like a mantle. ‘Sure.’ She pressed her lips together and started getting out equipment they’d need. She’d work with the devil if it meant helping Sam and Lucy.

The devil might be easier to get on with.

Blinking back a sudden rush of tears, she tried to concentrate on the job. Damn her tear ducts. They’d taken on a life of their own since she’d become pregnant.

The ambulance rocked as Grady clambered up the step. Did he have to suck up all the air? Surreptitiously she studied him, saw the pinching at the corners of his delectable mouth. Absurdly she wanted to reach out and touch him, run her finger over those lips and say, Hello, how’ve you been? Great idea, Sasha. Not.

‘Sash, can you move back a bit so I can get inside?’ His vivid cerulean eyes locked onto her and the bottom fell out of her stomach. That memory box lifted its lid again as she looked deeper into those eyes that used to twinkle at her while sending her hormones into a dance, eyes that had undressed her, grown slumberous with desire. Eyes that had turned the colour of thunderclouds as he’d told her they were over. Eyes that now held nothing but a simple request.

So he was playing the friends card. She’d do that too. Cool, casual. Aloof even, but friendly.

Flipper chose that moment to kick hard, making her gasp. Sinking down onto the stretcher frame, she rubbed her side. Felt another nudge from her girl. This baby had an attitude problem. Reminding her mum exactly what her new life was all about—her daughter.