by Sue MacKay
Tom left the dining room and went to find Fiona. He knew he’d mishandled the situation. He should have returned her calls. At least one of them anyway. The fact that he didn’t want her to hear his anguish in his voice was an excuse. Not a good one. She’d have known how he felt watching his goddaughter struggling for her life.
Why did he find it so hard to just come out and say what he felt? Had he not finally acknowledged to himself that he wanted Fiona back in his life? He needed thumping over the skull with a sledgehammer. He’d missed one opportunity after the other this past week.
‘Dr Saville, can we have a word about Shaun’s condition?’ Shaun’s parents stood in front of him. ‘We’re really worried about these latest results.’
Shaun’s mother started crying, and Tom swore under his breath. It wasn’t these people’s fault that he’d made a hash of his personal life. They were worried sick about their son, and entitled to his attention, but just for once he’d like to ask them to come back later—when he’d sorted his life out. On a long breath he spoke to them. ‘Come along to my office and I’ll run through everything with you.’
And I’ll see Fiona next.
Sounds familiar, mocked a little voice in his head. His jaw ached as he tried to concentrate on listening to the parents’ concerns and tried to allay their fears. They had a million questions that went on and on. Why couldn’t he focus on them? Because Fiona kept jarring his mind. He had to deal with Mr and Mrs Elliott first, then he’d be free to do what he really wanted to. Find Fiona.
Putting his patients before anyone else again. Putting Fi second.
The words slammed into him. How often had Fiona said that to him in the past? He knew it was true. Work always came first, even when it wasn’t urgent.
In the background he heard a vehicle on the drive and glanced out of the window. A taxi slowed, then sped up, heading to his cottage.
His heart banged against his ribs. His mouth dried. No, the taxi couldn’t stop at the cottage. It did. The driver got out and picked up a pack from the doorstep, put it in the car. The pack was followed by a laptop and a briefcase.
Fiona was leaving him. His heart stopped. She couldn’t. Not now—not without hearing him out.
But she had given him plenty of opportunities. He’d ignored all of them, too caught up in trying to protect his battered heart. Not once had he conceded that Fiona needed a fair hearing.
Fiona clambered into the back of the taxi. She didn’t stop to look around at the hospital. She didn’t glance up this way to his window. She just went.
That horrible void where his heart should be returned with a crash. Fiona was his soulmate, his best half. What a goddamned idiot he’d been.
So do something. Don’t sit on your backside, feeling sorry for yourself. Go after her and get down on your knees and beg her to stay.
With a muttered apology to Shaun’s parents he charged out of his office and through the hospital to the cottage. Where had he left the car keys? How long would it take to untie the Cessna and turn over the engine? Where had he put the goddamned keys? Please, if someone was looking out for him at this moment, could they do something to slow Fiona down until he caught up with her? Make it impossible for her to get the pegs the plane was tied to out of the ground, or put grime on the spark plugs so that she’d have to remove them and clean them before the engine would turn over. Anything. Just keep her in Hanmer Springs.
He threw papers off the table onto the floor, searched his windbreaker pockets and tossed the offending garment aside. Where were the damned keys?
Fiona slammed the mallet sideways at the peg in an attempt to loosen it. The frozen ground had a firm grip on all the pegs, but slowly, one by one, she removed them. Her fingers were chilled and she had to keep blowing on them in an attempt to warm them. Who knew where her gloves were? Anyway, the ache from the cold was nothing like the pain squeezing her heart.
She heard a vehicle approaching but didn’t stop to see who it could be. No one for her. Tom certainly wouldn’t be tracking her down. He’d be in his office working. And now that she’d decided to leave she wanted to get going. Twang. The final peg refused to budge. Twang. She hit it again. And again. Through her oozing tears she aimed and swung. And missed.
‘Don’t go, Fi.’ Tom’s voice. Pleading with her.
Don’t go, Fi. Like she really wanted to go. But there was nothing to hang around for. More aborted conversations? Another night of wonderful lovemaking? No, she didn’t need those, so it was definitely time to go. She swung the mallet, missed again. If she didn’t hit the peg soon she wouldn’t be going anywhere. She smudged the tears across her cheeks with the back of her hand before tightening her grip on the mallet.
Two boot-clad feet appeared in her line of vision. She stared at them. Why had he come? Now? When they’d had all week for this?
‘Fi, please stay. At least until you’ve heard me out.’
Her eyes blurred again. She’d been waiting all week to listen to him. ‘Why now?’
‘Because I’ve wasted the week and I don’t intend letting this last opportunity disappear without telling you how I feel.’
She raised her head to peer up at Tom. ‘About?’
‘You. Us. Our future.’ Fear clouded those grey eyes.
She straightened up. Could she begin to hope they might be able to sort this out? ‘Go on.’
He reached for the mallet, gently removed it from her stiff fingers, dropped it on the ground. His eyes never left her face. ‘You’re needed here.’
She was needed? That was it? Nothing about the two of them getting back together? About how he felt about her? Disappointment gripped her, a tight band around her chest. ‘No, Tom, I’m not needed. Sure, I fitted in well for the week, but I suspect no more than any of your visiting specialists. There’s no place here for me.’ Surprising how calm she sounded, when inside she felt as though she was in a food blender.
‘Oh, yes, there is. You bring the place alive in a way no one else does. The hospital has been different all week.’
The blender sped up. ‘The hospital needs me. Not you?’
She shook her head and bent to pick up the mallet. This time she hit it square and the peg loosened enough for her to pull it from the ground. ‘Find someone else for the role of cheerleader.’ She only wanted it if she could have the whole package, and apparently Tom didn’t want her.
She tucked the peg under her arm and turned to stow the mallet in the back of the plane. It landed with a loud thunk, breaking into the silence drawing out between them. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip and she picked up the rest of the pegs and tossed them in with the mallet. Tom’s arrival at the airstrip had rattled her, almost destroying her resolve to leave without making a scene. Not that she’d rant and rave at him. No, she’d more likely spill out all her feelings for him again, and she’d already done that once. Look where that had got her. Some vestige of pride kept her jaws clenched shut. But for how long?
She desperately needed to take off before she said anything, but she still had checks to do yet. No sensible pilot flew without first doing those. The metal screeched as she raised the engine cowling.
Tom came up behind her. ‘I need you.’
‘Pardon?’ She must’ve heard wrong. Surely Tom hadn’t said he needed her?
His hand touched her shoulder, gently turned her round so she had to look at him. She gasped at the raw pain she saw in his face. What were they doing to each other? She loved him, didn’t she? So give him a break, let him tell her what he’d come to say in his own way. Raising a hand, she cupped his cheek briefly. ‘Go on.’
‘My life doesn’t hold a lot of meaning without you in it.’
The tension in her stomach relaxed a little. Hope kicked her heart. But she had to make sure they were on the same wavelength. ‘I thought the hospital gave you all the purpose you needed.’
His head moved slowly from side to side. ‘I thought so too. At least I pretended it did. But this week, seeing yo
u working with patients, hearing your laughter everywhere I go, your perfume teasing me in the cottage, well—’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve been forced to be honest with myself. The hospital means a lot to me, but I can’t cuddle up to it in bed at night. I can’t share a meal with it at the end of a rough day, or tell it my deepest thoughts. It isn’t my wife, Fi. You are. I do need you.’ His eyes beseeched her to believe him.
Warmth flooded through her, turning her cheeks pink, curling her toes. She wanted to throw her arms around Tom and never let go. And she almost did. Then…He hasn’t mentioned love.
Stepping back, she studied him as she absorbed this point. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, live without love. No matter how much she loved him, he had to love her in return or they’d be back in trouble before the sun set on their first week together. ‘I need you, too, Tom, but it isn’t enough.’
She turned to tug the oil stick free, inspected the oil level. Perfect.
‘Fiona, I know I’ve let you down all week. You’ve been trying to talk to me and I’ve avoided that at all costs. Even telling you about Billy didn’t come easily—not after having kept it under wraps all the time I knew you.’
A glance over her shoulder showed him looking so earnest her heart flipped.
‘You surprised me with that, for sure.’ Warmth crept through her again as she pushed the stick back into place. He had tried to explain his reasons for not sharing his bad experiences with her. Now that he’d done that would he continue to be open and frank with her? The warmth faded. Look how he’d stayed out of contact while he was in Christchurch with Maddy. ‘It isn’t enough, Tom. Nothing’s really changed.’ Except her love for him had grown stronger, matured as she’d dealt with their tragedy.
‘You’re thinking of these past days with Maddy?’ The hope in his voice had been dampened with caution.
‘You never returned any of my phone calls. Not one. I knew you’d be having a hard time of it watching Maddy suffer. All I wanted was to talk to you, listen to you—anything that would help you.’ And hold him. And kiss the pain away.
‘I tried to call you back and tell you how the pain had returned like it had never gone away while I watched the child struggling for her life, to explain how afraid I was for Maddy and her family. But I didn’t know how to do it without putting you through all that again. I’m so sorry. I knew you were waiting, wondering, probably feeling the anguish too.’
‘You must stop trying to protect me from everything, Tom. I am strong enough to cope, you know.’
‘Believe it or not, I know you are. Your strength is one of the things I love about you. It’s just so hard not to want to take care of things for you.’
One of the things he loved about her? Hope touched her again. Could they start over? She certainly wanted to, if they could sort everything out that came between them. She tried for a lighter tone. ‘Tell me another.’
His eyes widened, and then he grinned at her. ‘The fact that you cooked me my favourite meal the other night. You remembered.’ Then his grin slipped. ‘You seem to have remembered a lot of things about me. The little things that add up to the bigger picture. Thank you. Those things make me feel special again.’
‘Tom, you are special.’ She gulped. Then went for broke. ‘I love you, Tom. I’ve never stopped loving you, even at the worst moments over the years.’
The thudding of her heart was deafening. If he didn’t return the sentiment then she really had to climb aboard the Cessna and fly away. What was he thinking? Would he tell her he loved her? Or break her heart all over again?
Tom’s eyes lit up, and his mouth curved into a delicious smile that set the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She still didn’t know what he would say as he stepped up to her and reached for her hands, wrapped them in his large, warm ones. ‘I love you with all my heart, Fi. There’s never been anyone else for me since the day I first set eyes on you in the children’s ward at Auckland Hospital.’
Happiness spread through her like a tornado, flinging its warm tendrils down to her toes, out to her fingertips, and easing the weight on her heart. ‘Thank goodness,’ she breathed quietly, and slipped her arms around his neck. ‘What took you so long?’
‘Sometimes you still are as impatient as ever.’
‘Especially when I’m dealing with a certain stubborn man I know.’ She brushed his mouth with hers. Suddenly she felt very impatient. ‘Where are we going with this? If I stay in Hanmer Springs I’ve got ideas about what I’ll do with my plastic surgery expertise. Ideas that could help fund the hospital, too.’
‘You can do whatever you think is best. I just want you back in my life, Fi. That means in every part of it. The hospital, my cottage…my bed.’ He kissed the corner of her mouth. ‘I’d like to have a family, Fi. With you.’
Fiona’s eyes misted over. ‘Are you sure? You haven’t been able to spare me five minutes most of the week. That’s not the sort of marriage I want.’ But they were getting darned close.
‘I’m absolutely sure. I’m even thinking about getting a manager to take care of all that paperwork I loathe.’
Suddenly she laughed and squeezed him tight. This felt so right. She’d come home. Home to Tom, the man she loved more than life itself. Then they were kissing. And hugging. And kissing some more.
Then just as suddenly she pulled away, looking into those beautiful eyes. ‘Tell me again.’
He hauled her back against him. ‘I love you, Fiona Saville. Will you marry me?’
She leaned back in his arms, and those swollen lips curved into a wide, heart-stopping smile. ‘Shame on you. I’m a married woman.’
Epilogue
Two years and nine months later.
FIONA dashed through the gardens towards the new house tucked in amongst the trees and the flowerbeds that Connor’s mother tended regularly. She was late.
But she slowed as she came out into the autumn sun. She missed the heat of summer and grabbed whatever sun she could before winter slammed in and created havoc. Freezing cold, icy havoc, that Tom enjoyed and she tolerated. All part of their busy, rich lives—lives they wouldn’t change for anything.
Although there was about to be one small change. One Tom knew nothing about yet.
Giggles burst out across the short distance from home and her steps quickened again.
‘Mummy, Mummy, here I am. Daddy’s been tickling me.’
Fiona reached down and swung her beautiful two-year-old up into her arms and smothered her with kisses. ‘Hello, my birthday girl. Are you ready for your party?’
‘No one’s here yet. The twins will come?’ Worry clouded Molly’s grey eyes.
‘Of course they will.’ Maddy and Karla wouldn’t miss the party for anything. They adored Molly, had almost adopted her.
Tom stood on the large veranda that ran the length of their new, larger house. ‘Come on, you two, stop gossiping. We’ve got a party to get organised.’
Fiona rolled her eyes at her husband. ‘Just what have you been doing all morning if you haven’t got everything ready? While I’ve been working, I might add.’
He grinned at her. ‘You can close the plastic surgery unit any time you like, and become a stay-at-home mum.’
‘As if.’ He knew she loved her work, and enjoyed the fact that the money she made through plastic surgery went towards helping those families who would otherwise struggle to send their children to Tom’s hospital. She’d not forgotten Shaun Elliott’s parents and the hardship they’d faced to get their son the help he needed.
‘The party’s ready to go. The barbecue’s warming. Just waiting on Kerry and Craig to arrive.’ Tom pulled his women in against his chest for a cuddle. ‘Molly and I have been having a bit of clean-out of her room.’
‘I’m bigger now. I don’t want the plastic ducks or the books with no paper.’
The fabric books that Molly had spent hours trying to read. Fiona’s heart squeezed. Her baby was growing up fast.
Tom nudged her. ‘Thought we could giv
e a box of toys to the kindergarten fundraising stall.’
‘Good idea. They’ll be grateful for them.’
‘And there’s the box of baby monitors. All ten of them. I’m sure we could find a home for them.’
When they’d learned Fiona had got pregnant that week she’d come to see Tom, Tom had gone shopping for a monitor to put in the crib, ready for the day Molly was born. In an attempt to lighten their fears he’d bought ten. Thankfully not one of them had ever gone off.
‘Tom.’ Fiona lifted her head, met his steady gaze. ‘Don’t take those monitors anywhere. We’re going to need them.’
He stared at her, his beautiful, strong mouth curving up into a big smile, the grey of his eyes brightening into a soft ash colour. ‘We are?’
‘We are. In November.’ She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed that smile.
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
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