by Sue MacKay
‘How did you manage?’ Tom asked.
‘I reached a point where I believed I’d used up my share of happiness, that there wouldn’t be any more for me. I even thought it was punishment for my extravagant lifestyle. Now I’m not so sure. We’ve both spent the intervening years doing so much for other people, surely we’re entitled to a little slice of happiness?’ But how did Tom feel about her? Six years was a long time to keep love alive when there was so much distress and grief to deal with.
‘Of course we are. Everyone is.’ His aching sigh caught at her heartstrings. ‘That’s why we’re clearing the air—so we can move on.’
That sounded very definitely like the slamming of a door. Fiona’s intertwined fingers were white. Her teeth were grinding. Her thudding heart echoed in her ears, drowning out other sounds.
But he was asking her something. ‘What’s your next move? After here, I mean.’
‘I’m still thinking about that. Initially I intended heading back overseas.’ She hesitated a moment. ‘But now—I don’t know.’
‘Why the change of mind?’
If she told him she wanted to settle here, in Hanmer Springs, would he be upset? Would he run a mile? She couldn’t risk it. Not yet. ‘I’m discovering I’m happy to be back in New Zealand. I haven’t a clue what I’ll do if I stay, but there’s plenty of time to work something out.’
‘You’d get a job anywhere. Good plastic surgeons are in demand.’
‘Sure.’ She didn’t want to work anywhere. She wanted to work here. With Tom.
‘I can’t imagine what it’s like to have time on your hands. It’s so long since I took a break it’s a dream.’ Then he lifted his face. His eyes were filled with longing.
She moved without realising what she was doing. She took Tom’s hand and placed it on her hip. She tucked her face against his chest.
His chin settled on her head. It felt so right being there, almost a part of him. When he began running his fingers through her hair she smiled and snuggled closer to his lean, muscular body.
She smoothed her palm over his skin, felt the muscles moving under her hand. Then her finger touched a nipple, and Tom’s breath hissed through his teeth. Beneath her bottom his thighs tensed. She shifted slightly.
‘Don’t wriggle,’ he begged.
Right. She kissed his stomach. And shifted her backside.
‘Fi…’
‘Fi, what?’ she whispered against his skin, before trailing her tongue up the muscles of his stomach, over his chest to the hollow beneath his jaw. As her tongue found it heat flared between her legs and she trembled. The fire she’d thought she’d extinguished earlier was well and truly roaring.
An icy chill on his back where the bedcovers had ridden down woke Tom. His right arm was crushed under Fiona, his fingers completely numb. Carefully he eased his arm out, not wanting to disturb Fiona as she slept peacefully, her back curved against his belly.
Holding his arm aloft, he opened and shut his fingers, pumping the blood through his veins, urging his cells back to life. Sharp tingling in his muscles caused him to grimace.
But it didn’t interrupt his thoughts of Fiona and what they’d shared through the night. Which was a problem. He’d really messed up this time. Not that he’d been coerced into making love with her. No way. He’d wanted it every bit as much as she had.
But it had been a mistake. A monumental mistake. Fiona would be here for another three days. Three days when they’d have to work together, acting as though this hadn’t happened.
It had happened. They’d made love twice. And it had been wonderful, fantastic. No denying that. But, wonderful or not, their future had not changed because of it.
Another thought pierced his mind.
They hadn’t used any protection. Hadn’t even thought about it. His heart-rate slowed. How could he have not thought about it? What if they’d got pregnant?
His heart lurched. He’d love another child, love to be a father again, was even ready for it. But was Fiona? Did she want a baby? Slow down. His heart was running away with this. The whole idea was crazy. They weren’t getting back together again, so how could he think about children?
The last thing either of them needed was to bring another child into this world. Not with everything that had gone wrong last time. There’d be the constant fear that something would again take away their child. What if he failed Fiona again? It would destroy both of them completely next time.
Slowly, carefully, so as not to wake her, he slid out of the bed and padded across the room, the floor freezing under his warm feet. In his bedroom he tugged on his thick robe before heading for the kitchen, where he switched on the kettle for a cup of coffee. He poked at the embers in the firebox until they were glowing, then added kindling and some pieces of split pine.
If only it were as easy to sort out his life.
Chapter Eleven
FIONA stretched and rolled over in the narrow bed. She was alone. Some time during the night Tom had left her. The warm, soft feeling inside her evaporated as quickly as the warmth of her skin did when she lifted the covers away.
Had he been called over to the hospital? An emergency? In her heart she knew that hadn’t happened. She’d have heard the phone, or someone knocking on the front door outside her bedroom. Over the years spent working overseas she’d always slept with one ear open, alert to anyone needing her medical skills. So how had she missed Tom leaving her bed?
The bedside clock read six-thirty. Time to be getting up and preparing for the day ahead. Groping in the dark, she found the switch for the bedside light and flicked it on, blinking in the sudden yellow light.
Her heart lurched. Across the floor Tom’s clothes were intermingled with hers, scattered as they’d hurried to get close to each other. Picking up his shirt, she held it to her face, sniffed in his scent. A lump filled her throat. He’d left her during the night. In her heart of hearts she knew what that meant. Last night had been wonderful. Last night had been a one-off. Last night was not to be repeated.
She suspected that right now he’d be sitting behind his desk in the hospital with screeds of paperwork in front of him. Patient notes, staff rosters, accounts, medical journals—whatever. All to do with his hospital. All keeping him busy and away from her.
This was classic Tom behaviour. Work first, everything and everyone else second.
Disappointment thumped through her head. To think she’d believed they were making progress in reaching an understanding. She couldn’t have been further from the truth if she’d tried. They might have made love during the night. It might have been sensational. But it all meant absolutely nothing in the cold half-light of the morning when she found herself alone in his cottage.
Did he think he’d made a mistake coming to her room last night? Was that it? Guilt snagged her. When he’d first knocked on her door he’d said he wanted to explain—and what had she done? Seduced him. He’d made it easy, for sure. But ever since she’d arrived she’d wanted him to talk to her, and when he’d come to do that she’d made love to him instead. The guy couldn’t win.
Had he meant to discuss Liam and their defunct marriage with her? She’d been lured into a false sense of expectation when he’d told her about his friend Billy. That had been a shock. Now she fully understood why he didn’t express his feelings very well. If his parents had refused to listen and repeatedly told him to forget what had happened, then he had no idea of the relief talking about problems could bring. But to have never mentioned the incident at all over the years they were together hurt her. Just as he hadn’t once told her about his dreams for a children’s hospital.
Shivering in the chilly air, she gathered up her clothes, dressed rapidly, and headed for the kitchen and some warmth. Her heart thumped slowly, painfully, as she tripped down the hall. With each step she reaffirmed what she already knew—the cottage was empty. Tom had gone out. By leaving her to wake up alone he was telling her that they had not rekindled their love but somehow cem
ented its demise.
The kettle was warm to her shaky touch. So Tom had made himself a drink not long ago. How come she had not woken? Had not felt him leaving her side? She should have sensed his departure. His withdrawal.
If he’d wanted a way to tell her she didn’t belong in his life then he’d certainly found it. His lovemaking had been goodbye, not welcome back.
‘Hi.’ Fiona walked into Tom’s office at midday, her chin high and her eyes guarded.
‘Finished your round?’ he asked, tapping his pen and trying to ignore the tension in his belly wound so tight he felt in danger of springing apart. Where did they go from here? How did they get beyond last night without resorting to platitudes? Or, worse, going back to conversations about the past?
‘The ward round was uneventful.’ Fiona dropped into a chair and rubbed her eyes. Shadows darkened the skin below them. Her voice drained of all emotion, she added, ‘Sophie will be here in a few minutes for her final check-up.’
‘Jacob’s pleased to be taking her home.’ What he really wanted to say was that last night had been special, but he wasn’t sure what the next step was. Six years alone was a long time, and it wasn’t easy to suddenly let someone into his space. Especially someone he’d loved as much as he’d loved Fiona. Still loved her.
The pen dropped through his fingers to the desk. How did people start again? Did Fiona even want to? Not once since she’d arrived had she given any indication that she did. But would she?
‘I’m sure he is. It has been a long few days for him, too.’ Fiona seemed very interested in a spot on the wall behind his head.
Her beautiful face tightened the knot in his stomach and made him forget what they’d just been saying. He searched the top of his desk, saw the file named ‘Sophie Clark’. Mentally he banged his head.
‘Jacob has been patient with his daughter, letting her vent her distress, understanding her need to fit in with her peers. His love for her shines through even in the most difficult moments.’ Tom stood up and reached for a medical book on top of the filing cabinet before adding, ‘You helped them both immensely.’
Over the days Fiona had drawn Sophie out of her shell, made her see that a scar did not mean the end of having fun with friends, or being whoever she wanted to be. Fi had shown her own brand of patience; taking her time, knowing when to be gentle, when to put a bit of bite in her words to make Sophie stop and think. It had worked. Anyone only had to look at Sophie to know that. Fiona had put everything into her case and the results were outstanding.
He stopped, his hand holding the book. She’d done that throughout the week with all her patients. She kept trying to do that with him, but he only blocked her. Why wasn’t it as easy for him to tell her that by coming here she’d helped him finally come to terms with Liam’s death? That he’d missed her and wanted her back in his life? Why was everything so damned hard?
Loud knocking at the door jerked his mind back into the real world. Sophie and her dad were here.
‘Hi there, Dr Tom, Fiona.’ Sophie bounced into the room ahead of her father and dropped onto a chair.
The change from the shy, sad teenager he’d met a few weeks ago still astonished him. While Sophie’s face remained swollen, and the bruising had turned a grey-yellow shade, it wasn’t yet apparent how much difference the surgery would make to her appearance.
Sophie babbled on. ‘Fiona, I’m going to be a teacher when I’ve finished school. I just loved looking after those little kids. They’re so cute. It’s cool fun reading stories and making up games to play with them. And they’re so honest. They talk about their scars like there’s no big deal.’
Fiona raised a thumb in acknowledgement. ‘Aren’t they right about that? It’s what’s on the inside of a person that really counts. All the good stuff. And you’ve got that in bucketloads.’
Tom tensed. His feelings for Fiona had always been strong. He’d loved her so much. His gaze shifted to her, watched her face become animated as she listened to Sophie’s excited chatter. And his heart began breaking again. He still loved Fi just as much as he always had. Maybe even more. How did he convince her to stay and try again? He swallowed. Clenched his hands so that the nails dug into his palms.
And looked up to find Fiona focused on Jacob, who was telling her, ‘Much like yourself, Dr Fraser. I want to thank you so much for what you’ve achieved with my daughter. And I’m not talking about the surgery—although we’re very grateful for that, of course.’ Jacob’s smile could have lit up the whole village.
She looked uncomfortable, being thanked for something she’d trained for and obviously enjoyed doing. All the reward any doctor really wanted had to be the eagerness for life that now glowed in Sophie’s eyes. The girl had been through the school of hard knocks and come out the other side.
Fiona washed her hands. ‘Let me look at your face before you go. How far are you travelling tonight?’
‘Dad’s taking me to a posh restaurant in Christchurch and we’re going to stay at a big hotel. Then it’s all the way back to Timaru tomorrow.’
Tom’s attempt at a chuckle missed, big-time. ‘A posh restaurant? What happened to fast food?’
‘That’s where we’re really going. Dad’s been promising all week.’
Jacob raised an eyebrow. ‘Anything for a spot of peace.’
After a quick examination, Fiona told her, ‘Time to go home.’
Sophie threw her arms around Fiona and hugged her hard. ‘I’m going to miss you. Can I write to you and let you know what everyone at school says about my new scar?’
‘Of course you can. Send any mail here, and hopefully the office will know where to send it once I’ve decided what I’m doing next.’
Tom felt a shard of ice stab his heart. Reality was setting in. The end of the week loomed and so did Fiona’s departure.
Sophie grinned. ‘Don’t you have a cell phone so I can text you?’
Fiona tapped her forehead. ‘Duh, I’m always forgetting that I’ve got one, not having had one while I was overseas. No coverage in most of the places I’ve been.’
Tom grimaced as he watched his wife write down her number. He didn’t want her going back to those places. But it wasn’t up to him where she went, what she did.
‘Bye, Dr Tom.’ Sophie waved from the door.
Returning her wave, Tom slid further down in his chair. Tiredness crept over him. Not the usual raw ache to his body that lack of sleep and too much worry gave him, but a quiet, muscle-numbing tiredness. His eyes sagged shut. Sealing in images of Fi: in his arms last night, operating on a skin graft, laughing and playing lions with the children, crying over Liam’s photo.
Her voice came through the images, softly. ‘You look exhausted. I’ll see you back in surgery.’
As he dragged a hand over his face and sat up, he heard the office door click shut behind her. All he could think was that he wanted her back—so very, very much.
Fiona pushed the front door to the cottage shut and stood listening for any sounds that might indicate Tom had returned home. All day in Theatre he’d been abnormally quiet, preoccupied. Because of her? Last night?
She’d filled in the uncomfortable silence by explaining in depth to Evan the procedures she was performing. It was the second time Evan had come to observe.
Tom hadn’t turned up for the game of lions with the little ones. He hadn’t been in his office when they’d been called to talk to Shaun’s parents about his blood results. She’d had to wing that one alone.
The boy did have an underlying liver problem—one that meant more hospitalisation for the lad. She’d done her best to cover for Tom, explaining he was tied up with another patient and crossing her fingers that she wouldn’t get caught out in her fib.
But Mr and Mrs Elliott had been far too concerned about this new development with their son’s health to notice. They’d been stoic in their reaction to the news, almost as though they fully expected bad news all the time. Fiona had wanted to hug them both and tell the
m that with the right treatment and a lot of patience Shaun would eventually gain good heath. But who was she to make promises like that? Not when she knew intimately how children did die.
Instead she’d told them, ‘Shaun is in the best care with Tom as his paediatrician. You’d go a long way to find a better one, and he won’t hesitate to bring in the right specialists if they’re needed.’
Shaun’s father had sagged against his wife momentarily. ‘More double shifts at the factory, then. Just as well I work for a very understanding boss.’
‘Talk to Tom. He might be able to swing some funding. He understands your situation.’ Darn it—so did she.
As she’d left the shaken family a worm of an idea had begun wiggling around her mind. All to do with what she could achieve if she stayed around Hanmer Springs.
First she had to face Tom again. She’d fooled herself into thinking everything would be okay between her and Tom this week, at least as friends, if she gave him a few days to adjust to her presence. She’d really believed that, and after last night her hopes had soared beyond her expectations. But judging by his withdrawal this morning she couldn’t have been further from reality if she’d booked a trip to Mars.
Briefly she’d considered trying to find accommodation in the village, so that Tom could have his cottage to himself. But why bother? He spent most of his time at work—nothing new there. If they weren’t getting back together then they should finalise their break-up. There would only be the paperwork to do anyway.
Now her fingers shook as she poked at the fire, bringing it back to life in the chilly cottage. Then she plugged in the kettle. It could come to the boil while she took a very hot shower. Later she’d head into the village for a meal. Not that she felt at all hungry, but she had to go through the motions. And give Tom some space.
After her shower she rubbed at her skin with a towel, trying to remove the feel of Tom where he’d touched her last night. As her hand hovered over her stomach her blood slowed. Oh, my goodness! They hadn’t used any protection.
