Abbie joined the conversation. “Only she's not the governess anymore because she married Logan, the kid’s father, so now she's their step-mum.”
“Is that Logan from Currawilla Station?”
Their eyes locked in the rear-view mirror. “Do you know him?”
Lachie laughed. “We went to the same boarding school. I actually attended their wedding. Is that where I met you?”
“No, I didn't go to it. I've only met her recently,” Abbie said. “They did a School of the Air camp here with the Julia Creek schoolkids about six months ago. Soon after we moved here.”
Lachie nodded but a frown creased his handsome face. “Then how do I know you? You seem so familiar.”
“You do too.” She shook her head. How could she forget such a gorgeous man? She doubted she would ever forget him now, especially after the dramatic events of today. “I don't know. I'm usually so good with remembering faces and names.”
“Mummy remembers all her patients. We meet them on the street sometimes,” Hannah explained. “It gets kind of annoying.”
“I know what that's like,” Lachie said in a loud whisper. “Whenever I go to town, I always bump into a lot of people I know. It makes what should be a quick trip take all day.”
Hannah laughed and Lachie smiled fondly at her. Abbie's heart cartwheeled. It was a rare man who made such an effort with her daughter. The guys she’d dated in Brisbane had never been interested in meeting Hannah, let alone playing dad to her. After a while, Abbie had stopped dating altogether and concentrated on being the best nurse and mother she could.
But now … was Hannah missing out not having a father or a male role model in her life? Single parent guilt sliced through her as it often did when she let herself dwell on the what-ifs and if-onlys.
At the sign welcoming them to the small outback town of Julia Creek, Abbie opened her phone and hit the speed dial for the hospital.
“Jill, it's Abbie. I'll be arriving in about five minutes with an emergency patient. He's a male with pain in his abdomen after a fall playing soccer, and his name is-”
Jill cut her off. “You've got Lachie McGuire. I know; his mum called. We're ready for him.”
“Great see you soon.” Abbie disconnected the call and took the turn. “We're almost there.”
Chapter 2
Lachie groaned as he shifted and manoeuvred his way out of Abbie's car and into the waiting wheelchair. The pain had only worsened on the journey, but at least the company had helped to shift his focus.
He felt Hannah’s small hand curl around his arm and he concentrated on putting on a brave face for her. Lachie never gave much attention to young children. He didn't see many of them in his day-to-day life. But after spending the last hour with Hannah, chatting about school, sport, and families, he had come to learn a lot about what interested a six-year-old girl. She was sweet and compassionate, like her mother.
His attention turned to Abbie who was walking beside him, discussing his symptoms with the doctor. She was so beautiful and when she touched him … if he died today, he was grateful to have received good care from such an angel.
Another stab of pain crested through his middle. Yes, this was the end. He would finally pay for his past mistakes and die from whatever horror had been inflicted on him.
They were shown to an examination room and he was helped onto the bed with its stiff white sheets. One sniff, and the antiseptic smell reminded him of those terrible weeks he had spent in Townsville Hospital. After three days unconscious, he had woken up in excruciating pain with two broken ribs, minor burns, and nerve damage in his arms and legs. He had hoped never to step foot into a hospital again, at least not as a patient.
And now he’d been hurt playing soccer, being healthy. Another of life’s cruel tricks.
“How's the pain now?” the doctor asked as he pushed cold hands against Lachie’s abdomen. At least Abbie's soft hands had been warm.
“Lachie.”
He turned at Abbie’s voice and gazed again at that beautiful face, with her ivory skin and grey eyes. Hannah had blue eyes; she must take after her father.
“Lachie,” she repeated, “how’s your pain on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst?”
He shifted under the doctor’s insistent probing. “Ten.”
“We'll give him something for that before we run those tests,” the doctor said.
“Wait.” Abbie stopped the doctor as he started to turn away, then placed her hands on either side of Lachie's face.
That got his attention.
Her voice was quiet as though she only wanted him to hear her. “Back at the station, you said no to painkillers. Why? Do you have an allergy?”
Lachie looked at the doctor, then at Hannah. She was studying a chart on the wall, her hand still wrapped around his arm.
He could so easily say yes to the drugs that would bring him oblivion and rescue him from the pain he was suffering. But, in the seemingly unlikely chance that he survived this ordeal, he would suffer even more. Sobering up had been hard enough the first time; he didn't think he could go through it again.
He swallowed hard, his voice shallow and husky when he answered. “I'm a recovering alcoholic.”
She nodded, and he was surprised to see no judgment in eyes. She let go of his face and turned to consult with the doctor.
He strained to hear what was being said when Hannah tapped his shoulder. “Have you ever had to stay overnight in hospital before? I heard the food is really bad. Is it true they give you jelly? I like jelly. Well, I like strawberry jelly. I tried orange jelly once, but I didn't like that. What flavour is green jelly? I like the colour green, but I like purple better. I wouldn't mind trying purple jelly. I like grapes so I'd probably like grape jelly. What's your favourite flavour?”
Lachie shook his head. “Um, my favourite flavour jelly is strawberry too. I like it with ice cream.”
Hannah’s face lit up with a smile as though he had just agreed to take her to Disneyland. “Me too. I love ice cream—”
“Hannah,” Abbie interrupted, “why don't you go into the waiting room and play with the toys. I'll meet you there soon.”
“Okay.” Hannah bent over then and kissed Lachie's cheek. “My mum will look after you. She's a great nurse.”
“Thanks, squirt.” He gave her his bravest smile and watched her skip from the room. She seemed quite at home here, and he wondered how much time she had spent in hospitals over her short life.
“Sorry about her. She probably talked your ear off,” Abbie said.
“It was a great distraction. She's a wonderful kid.”
Pride stretched her full lips into a smile. Oh, how he'd like to taste those lips …
“So, the doctor is going to perform an ultrasound first and see if he can find anything. Because of your addiction, he's going to hold off giving you any pain relief for as long as he can. Unfortunately, most drugs are a form of codeine and can be a trigger for addicts.”
“Yeah, I've heard the spiel in AA.”
“Well, I'm glad you listened. You must take sobriety very seriously.”
“Of course I do.” He frowned. Why wouldn't he take it seriously? Every day he had to fight not to drink. It would be too easy to start again.
She glanced around the room, they were alone for the first time.
“How long have you been sober?” she asked.
“Ten months.”
“Good for you. That's a big achievement.” Her words made him smile through his pain.
“Thanks.”
“You'll need to remove your shirt and unbutton your jeans so we can perform an ultrasound on your abdomen. Do you want me to help?”
She was all professionalism, and he felt himself squirm. He stopped abruptly as the pain started. He gave a small nod, knowing he wouldn't be able to undress on his own and hating being so helpless. Still, if anyone had to undress him, he didn't mind it being this woman.
She unbuttoned his shirt, her eye
s on the job, and he took the opportunity to study her at such close proximity. Her skin was pale and freckles covered her nose, although they were mostly covered by makeup. He wondered how dark they would be free from foundation. She had long lashes, and her brows had a lovely curve.
He sucked in a breath as her fingers reached for his belt buckle, and he breathed in her scent. Feminine and oh-so sexy.
“Can you lean forward?” Her voice had a huskiness to it and he wondered if just maybe he affected her the way she affected him.
He moved as instructed and, when her fingers brushed over his exposed skin, he felt sensation in parts of his body that weren't the cause of his admission.
He looked up at her face, just mere inches away. She was biting her lip. He turned away before the urge to bite it for her overtook him.
Except his gaze fell to her chest. Her low-cut summer dress gaped open to his view, and he could see the exposed tops of her rounded breasts and the lace of her white bra. A small brown mole sat above her bra line on her right breast, and he frowned at the sense of déjà vu that came over him. Before he could think too much on it, she laid him back, carefully folded his discarded shirt, and put it at the bottom of the bed.
He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the doctor and nurse rattled in with their machine.
“Now lie back. The gel will be cold,” the doctor instructed as the bed was lowered. Lachie cringed and closed his eyes, then a soft hand took his. He looked up to see Abbie smiling down at him, her fingers entwined with his. He looked down at her left hand. No ring. Maybe there was hope after all.
Abbie prided herself on delivering the best possible care and bedside manner but also not getting too involved or attached. For some reason, she was letting that all fly out the window when it came to Lachie McGuire. When she had taken off his shirt, she had felt something—an attraction. It was brewing between them with every look, every touch. It had been so long since she had been with a man, since she had wanted to even think about a relationship, but now Lachie was messing with her mind and making her want all sorts of crazy things. To do all sorts of crazy things.
The doctor pulled her from her fantasy. “You were right, Nurse Forsyth.”
She studied the screen in front of them. The ultrasound wand was on Lachie's middle.
“Incisional hernia.” She breathed out her earlier diagnosis.
“A hernia?” Lachie questioned loudly.
“It looks like the bowel has pushed through a weakened spot in the abdominal muscle,” the doctor explained.
Abbie squeezed his hand. “It could have been weakened during your motorbike accident, then today's accident ruptured it.”
“Okay. So, can you fix it?” Lachie looked between the medical professionals surrounding him.
“Since it’s causing so much pain, we have to operate immediately before it causes any more damage.” The doctor looked down at a clipboard he was holding. “Normally we would transfer you to Townsville, where they could do keyhole surgery, but I don't think we have enough time. We’ll have to open you up.” The doctor continued to explain the risks of this type of surgery and what kind of recovery he could expect.
Abbie watched as Lachie's eyes widened in alarm. “You'll be alright. Doctor Ferguson has performed this type of surgery many times, and even though recovery will take a few weeks, it will be far less painful than what you’re feeling now.”
His eyes were wide when he turned to her. “Will you be in the operating theatre too?”
Abbie nodded and smiled, knowing she'd have to ask the doctor and figure out what to do with Hannah, but also sure she had to be in the theatre. Hernia surgery could be risky and she wanted to make sure Lachie came out fine and healthy on the other side. “Trust me. You'll be alright. I'll be with you every step.”
“I trust you,” he said and she felt a shiver of anticipation.
Harriet and Darcy arrived in time to see Lachie before surgery and promised to look after Hannah while Abbie was with him. As she scrubbed in, Abbie focused her thoughts on the surgery, what needed to be done, and what role she would play. Those years as an ER nurse really paid off in times like these, and she was grateful for her varied nursing experience.
Having her parents there to look after Hannah was the only reason she had been able to work the long shifts in the Brisbane hospitals. Of course, that had meant letting them help with Hannah's upbringing and early education. As much as Abbie loved and respected her parents, she didn't want her child raised with the upper-brow, better-than-everyone-else view her parents held.
It had been the reason Abbie had rebelled and gone into nursing. The reason she had taken that road trip to the Birdsville races.
After she’d finished preparing, she pushed through the door and into the tiny, rarely used operating theatre.
She watched as Lachie was rolled in. They had changed him into a hospital gown. A blue cap covered his thick brown hair, and he was tucked in with warm blankets.
“Hi.” She hovered over him and spoke through her face mask.
He looked up, and his face relaxed as he recognised her. “Abbie.”
The anaesthetist rolled his chair over and chatted to Lachie about the surgery and the anaesthesia he would be receiving. When he was ready to administer it, Abbie returned to Lachie's side.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“Don’t leave me.” His voice was pleading. She often saw patients like this, their bravado stripped away to reveal their vulnerability.
“I won't. I promise I'll be beside you the whole time and here when you wake up.”
He shot her a smile of thanks. “Okay, then I'm ready.” He breathed deeply before the anaesthesia was put into a drip and flowed into the catheter she had placed in his arm earlier. Then she watched as his eyelids drooped lower and lower until he was asleep.
“Nurse,” the doctor said, drawing her attention from her sleeping patient. “We’re ready to start.”
Chapter 3
Lachie, wake up. It's all over.” Abbie patted his hand and waited for him to come to.
His eyes flickered open briefly then closed again. The anaesthesia hadn't worn off, and he was still dopey from its affects. The machine between them continued to beep reassuringly. The only noise in the small recovery room.
She stroked his big, work-roughened hand with her fingertips and gazed at the giant of a man. Like this, she was able to fully appreciate the sharp angles of his face. He had a strong jaw, a pouty bottom lip, and a hint of a dimple in his chin. He was the kind of good-looking that could sweep an unsuspecting female off her feet and straight into bed.
Taking a deep breath, she contemplated the likelihood of anyone ever sweeping her off her feet.
Finally, he stirred again and opened his eyes. “Abbie?”
“I'm right here,” she said.
His blue-eyed gaze locked on hers, and she felt it again. That attraction, the sense of familiarity.
“You didn't leave me.” A satisfied smile curled the edges of his mouth. God, it was sexy.
Even in the hospital gown, hooked up to a drip and machines, he still managed to look sexy as hell. She could only imagine how he would look if he actually tried.
She tried to keep her brain focused. “The surgery was a success. You're going to be just fine.”
He blinked. “You're beautiful.” His words were slurred, and she smiled to herself. It was perfectly normal behaviour post-surgery. He didn't know what he was saying and he likely wouldn't remember any of it. “I love you.”
She couldn't help but giggle. It wasn't the first time a patient had declared their undying love for her post-surgery. “You're going to be just fine.”
“I love you, Abbie. I want to marry you.” His eyes were so open and honest that she almost believed him.
“Oh yeah? What about Hannah?” She played along.
“I love Hannah too. She's wonderful. Just like her mummy.” The slurring had lessened now. “Except her
eyes. She has her father's eyes.”
“Abbie?” She gazed into those bright blue eyes and gulped. Eyes the exact same as Hannah's. Even down to the tiny brown flecks. What were the odds?
“Your mother and brother are in the waiting room. I'll go and get them for you.” She made to stand but he tugged on her arm.
“Thank you, Abbie,” he said, then raised her hand to his lips and brushed his warm lips over her skin. Her heart pounded.
“I'll be back in a minute.” She fled the room. Away from the feelings and emotions he stirred in her. She wasn't looking for love. She and Hannah were doing so well by themselves, and she couldn't screw that up. Even if she was ready, the last man she should be thinking of dating was an alcoholic cowboy. It would never work.
Would it?
“It was an incisional hernia, but we managed to repair all the damage and stitch it back together without any complications,” the doctor explained. “You will need to rest for at least a week, then light duties for another three weeks.
“Thank you, Doctor,” his mother said and squeezed Lachie's hand. Darcy stood behind her, a look of relief on his face. Lachie remembered that look. Darcy had worn it after the accident, like he felt responsible for causing it. He must be feeling guilty all over again.
“So, when can I get out of here?” Lachie asked.
Abbie shifted next to the doctor. How was it possible for a woman to look that good in hospital scrubs? Damn, he must still be high from those drugs. He remembered Abbie holding his hand when he woke up, but his memory was all a bit fuzzy until his mother came in.
“You can leave in the morning, but I'd like you to stay close by at least for a week.”
“We live at Brigadier Station. It's the best part of a forty-minute drive,” Harriet said, worry lining her voice.
The doctor pursed his lips and looked at Lachie. “Do you have family or friends in town you can stay with?”
Lachie shook his head. His friends were all old drinking buddies from the pub. Not the type he could stay with unless he wanted to fall into old habits, which he definitely did not.
The Legacies of Brigadier Station Page 2
