The Nurse's Special Delivery

by Louisa George

  She said something to the man, who looked over at him too, then she walked towards Cal, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, eyes bright. Dancing. ‘Hey there, I wondered if we’d ever get to meet at work.’

  ‘It’s all in the timing.’ A quirk of the universe. A different shift, a busier day and he’d probably never have met her.

  ‘Did you bring little Ava in? I heard she’d had another scare.’

  ‘Yes. You know her?’

  ‘I know her mother. We went to school together.’

  ‘Lucky.’ He was too much of a professional to say what he really thought.

  ‘She owns and runs the Mountain View Hotel, which didn’t get the reputation for being the absolute best for nothing. She can be quite demanding, so I’ve heard from her suppliers. I hope she didn’t give you a hard time?’

  ‘She’s just anxious about her daughter. It’s totally understandable. People react differently under stress.’

  ‘Yeah...and the rest. I hear what you’re not saying too.’ Abbie smiled and shuddered. ‘I hope I’m not that kind of mother.’

  Not seeing her pregnant made him forget she was having a baby. Surrogacy. They sure did things differently here. Still, he hadn’t had a child of his own but had experienced that surging protective instinct, that unconditional love that made people do extraordinary things when necessary. ‘You’ll love your kid no matter what and will fight for it too; a mother’s instincts. One gurgle and you’ll be a pushover.’

  ‘Oh, believe me, I’m bad enough just looking at the scans. But you’ve only seen me on a good day. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.’

  ‘I’ll remember that.’

  ‘Abbie? Can you—? Oh.’ The pregnant lady from the café the other day came over, her eyes giving him the once-over. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Emma. This is Cal. This is Em. She’s my—’

  ‘Best friend. Yes. Hi.’ Cal nodded, instantly on his best behaviour. For some reason it mattered what Emma thought of him. He stuck out his hand and shook Emma’s.

  A strange look passed between the two women. Actually, it was more a flicker of anxiety that fluttered across Emma’s face. She quickly hid it and smiled broadly. ‘Hi. Abbie told me about the medivac the other day. Sounds a bit wild. Good job you were there.’

  ‘Och, it was a challenge, that’s for sure. But we managed, didn’t we, Abbie?’

  ‘Absolutely. The A Team, right?’ Abbie’s smile tugged at his gut. There was something unspoken between them. He’d felt it on the run, too—a fledgling friendship. She was fun and pretty and kind. More than anything she had guts and he admired that.

  But there were plenty of women on the planet like that, some of whom lived a damned sight closer to Duncraggen. So why this particular woman in this particular corner of the world seemed to be playing with his head he couldn’t be sure.

  His phone started to ring. A good excuse to leave now because staying would be foolhardy. Like the date idea. It had been agreed on the spur of the moment, but it was hardly something he could renege on now. ‘That’ll be another job, no doubt. Right, I’ll be gone, then.’

  ‘See you tomorrow?’

  ‘Oh, yes. At the archway. Good.’

  He left them to it, unable to put his finger on what it was that he was feeling. Conflicted was the best way to describe it. She was a lovely woman with a whole ton of baggage, none of which he could do anything about. Or wanted to. There was no point in taking on someone else’s business, no matter how nice and fun and kind she was.

  Hell, he hardly knew her, so taking her out for the morning had been a pretty dumb suggestion. But he was a man of his word, whatever else.

  ‘At the archway?’ It was Emma’s voice floating over to him as he walked away. ‘What’s that about?’

  He didn’t hang around long enough to hear the answer.

  * * *

  Abbie felt like a kid playing hooky rather than a grown-up woman. But she had the distinct sense she was playing hooky more from her promises to Michael than anything else. This was the first time she’d been out with a man since the last date night with her husband. This wasn’t a date, it was just a bit of fun, but should she even be here?

  Her last words to Michael had been, ‘I’ll never love anyone like you. I’ll never love anyone again.’

  ‘Of course you will,’ he’d said. ‘I want you to. I want to leave knowing you’ll find someone else to make you happy.’

  She hadn’t thought back then that she’d ever be happy again.

  Which was all a bit morose given she was in a car with Cal going...somewhere. She looked over at him as he drove, a glimmer of a smile on his face. He was looking up at the mountains around them and in his eyes she could see a kind of wonder and excitement that was infectious. She was probably too nonchalant about it after twenty-odd years living here, but looking from a visitor’s perspective...yes, the snow-capped mountains and deep slicing valleys did take your breath away. ‘So, where are we going?’

  She only hoped it wasn’t a bungee jump, given that was the number one tourist attraction round here.

  ‘Can’t say.’ The smile bloomed. ‘It’s a magical mystery tour.’

  In truth, the whole thing was a mystery to her—the weird flutters when she looked at him, the lightness in her chest that seemed to squeeze back the sadness she’d worn for so long. The fact she was having a physical reaction to a man after all this time. That was pretty intense stuff. Was it real, though? Or was she just being silly? She swallowed back the apprehension and the nerves and tried to keep her voice steady. ‘Then I should really be driving, seeing as I’m the local.’

  ‘And then it wouldn’t be my treat, would it?’

  ‘Have you done much sightseeing while you’ve been here?’

  ‘I’ve seen a lot, but I think you could live here for a whole lifetime and still not see everything. Right?’

  ‘Definitely. I’ve hardly explored any of it. Bad of me to admit, I guess, but when you live somewhere so amazing you do tend to take it for granted. I’ve always wanted to do some of the great walks, but never have time. I certainly won’t when the baby comes. I’ll just have to add them to my bucket list—which is getting longer and longer, I might add.’ Michael hadn’t written one. They’d been so damned sure he was going to beat the cancer they hadn’t wanted to cloud that vision with might-haves and wish lists.

  Stop thinking about Michael.

  Michael was dead. Cal was very much alive. But it was so hard, after all this time, to stop thinking about her husband. A betrayal of sorts. She looked at Cal’s profile, a strong defined jawline, long eyelashes to die for, and her heart squeezed a little. ‘So, you said to Marty the other day that you’d like to climb Ben Lomond. Do you do a lot of climbing? Tramping?’

  ‘Hiking, you mean? That’s what we call it, but it’s the same thing. I used to, yes. But—’ He stopped talking abruptly.

  ‘But, what?’

  Whatever he was going to say he changed his mind; she could tell by the little shake of his head. He consciously controlled what he was going to say, curling into himself a little. ‘Now I just spend my time rescuing people from the mountains instead of scaling them for fun.’

  ‘That’s a shame.’ She wanted to ask him why, but didn’t know him well enough to go probing into his life. Something had happened, she was sure of it. But then, didn’t everyone have something in their background? No one got to thirty without some baggage, or betrayal, or loss. If they did, then they were the lucky ones. ‘You should really get out there and do what you love. Life’s too short to do stuff you don’t want to do.’

  ‘You’re right there, Abbie. That’s for sure. But sometimes you just have to suck up the bad stuff and get on with it.’ He pulled the car into a sharp left turn and drove through the huge gates and the entrance t
o the Lakes Shooting Range.

  ‘Shooting?’ How many times had she driven past this and never once stopped? This tourist was showing her around her stomping ground, go figure.

  He climbed out of the car and waited for her to do the same, then started to walk with her up a gravel path. ‘Abbie, please don’t tell me you were the Queenstown Primary top shooter as well as best arm wrestler and fastest woman in the southern hemisphere.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You’re a veritable superwoman and I’m feeling just a little intimidated by all your achievements.’ But he didn’t look it as he walked her to the large modern barn advertising shooting and hunting, and held the door open to her. ‘Hey, Trent. How you doing?’

  Which was Kiwi for good morning and sounded strange and quaint with a Scottish brogue.

  He was tall and strong and had a confidence she’d always yearned for. She watched as he paid and shook his head at something the owner said, then Cal came over with two shotguns. Shotguns! But he kept hold of them both, refusing to hand one over. ‘Before you touch this I need to do a safety briefing.’

  ‘Good, because I’ve never held a gun in my life. But you clearly know what you’re doing.’

  ‘Ah...well, yes. I’m cheating, to be honest. I used to work at a shooting range, part time, you know, after school and in the holidays. I come down here to blast off sometimes.’

  ‘Oh, so you’re a world-cup hotshot, then?’

  ‘Not exactly. But not far off.’ His eyebrows rose and danced above his eyes, making her laugh. ‘Just missed out on the Commonwealth Games in 2006.’

  ‘Oh, my God. Really? You must be good.’ Then the penny dropped. ‘You really are the most competitive person ever, Callum Baird. You only brought me here because you knew you’d win.’

  ‘Er... I seem to remember it was you who started the whole race thing on the lake path.’

  ‘Me?’ But she had. And it had been fun, just like this. Like him.

  Once outdoors they walked to a cordoned-off area where there was a machine housing what looked like coloured clay plates and some banked areas called stands apparently, where they did the shooting. After he gave her a thorough safety briefing and she’d been so put off by the dangers of a loaded weapon she almost didn’t want to actually hold the gun, he pointed her towards a cluster of trees.

  He was standing very close behind her as he helped her adopt the right stance. So close, she was aware of his scent, much more than in the car. It was fresh and wholesome—soap, citrus shampoo. Male. And she was so busy breathing it in that she was barely concentrating on his words. Plus, being so close was making her hands shake a little. Actually, a lot. His voice whispered over her neck.

  ‘Put your ear defenders on. Stand a little forward, leaning on your left leg. That’s it.’ She really, really wanted him not to touch her thigh like that. Or rather, she realised, with a shock, that she did want him to touch her thigh like that. And more. His words were fuzzy, but that was more about the way she was feeling than his accent. ‘Okay, the clay is going to come from the left. Trace it with your gun. Then, try to get a little ahead of it and just as it’s about to dip, squeeze your finger. And shoot.’

  Whoosh! The clay was out high in the sky and crashing down to earth before she’d been able to breathe. She followed it, right down to the grass. ‘I’m rubbish.’

  ‘No, you’re not. You just have to stand still. Concentrate.’

  How the hell was she supposed to concentrate with him standing so close? ‘Show me.’

  ‘No. You do it.’

  ‘Show me.’ She nudged him and moved out of the way, offering the loaded gun.

  He shrugged. ‘Okay.’

  Taking the gun from her, he placed the edge of it high on his collarbone, his cheek resting on top and... Bang! A shower of pink clay floated to the ground. Bang! And again. Bang! And again.

  ‘Wow! You’re really good.’

  ‘I know.’ His forehead crinkled a little. ‘Actually, I should have asked. How are your hands? Are they still sore from the gurney? I should have brought you to do something different.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s my hands that are holding me back, to be honest.’ She held her hands out and showed him the rough healing skin on her palms. There were traces where the handles had gouged holes, but on the whole they were heaps better. ‘Yes, they still hurt a bit, but not enough to hinder me. I can do that all by myself.’

  ‘Then you’ve no excuse, woman.’

  He handed the shotgun back to her. It was warm where his cheek had been and she tried really hard not to think of him in any way as a sexual, sentient being. All she knew was that she felt strange when she was around Cal. Strange and new and scared and excited and yet comfortable, all at the same time.

  ‘You just have to steady yourself. Be mindful—that’s all the rage at the moment, ye ken? Be in the moment. Breathe in. Focus.’ A whizz and another clay shot into the air. They watched it together and she tried to trace it as he’d told her. It started to dip. He shouted, ‘Shoot.’

  Bang!

  She let her arm relax as the clay hurtled to earth, intact. ‘Whoa.’

  He was all attentive, his eyes dark with concern as he took the gun from her and propped it against the stand. ‘You okay? Loud? Did you hurt your ears?’

  ‘No. Not at all. But when I hold the gun up my heart’s racing and my hands are shaking.’ But she knew it had nothing to do with shooting and everything to do with him. He was making her nervous, making her shake. Which was silly. He was just a man. A very good-looking and lovely man. An almost medal-winning shooter. A very accomplished... Her gaze moved from his eyes to his mouth. A very accomplished kisser? Where the hell had that come from? For God’s sake. Stop it. She did not want to kiss this man. Any man. But definitely not this one. Focus. Be mindful. ‘It’s harder than it looks. I don’t think I can stay still for that long.’

  ‘As I thought.’ He stroked his chin and pretended to peer closely at her. ‘I diagnose...ants in yer pants.’

  Despite herself she laughed. She hated that she couldn’t hit the damned target, but, well, he made failure very funny. ‘It’s hard. I can’t slow. I never slow. I’m much better at running.’

  She filled her spare time doing things so she didn’t have to think too hard about her life. About the empty space in her bed. In her chest. About a future where she was the only parent the baby would have... Oh, yes, she had Emma and Rosie but, when it came down to it, she was going to be on her own. Every night. Every day.

  Every night.

  And that hadn’t really concerned her until now. She didn’t want to be alone.

  Although, she wasn’t thinking Cal would be the one to stop her being lonely. He had a one-way ticket out of here. So she wasn’t investing in him. And, anyway, she’d have the baby to fill her every waking moment and no doubt most of her sleeping ones too.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. ‘Settle. Take some breaths. That’s it. Slow right down.’

  ‘Okay.’ She shook out her arms, made them loose and relaxed, did the same with her legs. Stretched her neck from side to side. ‘I’m good. Okay. Let’s do this.’

  He gave her the gun and once again corrected her stance. Stood by her as she watched. Focused. Boom! Shot.

  The clay fell to the ground. Intact.

  Give me a break. Concentrating and breathing slowly were not happening with him so close. ‘Cal, could you just step back a little?’

  ‘Sure. Whatever helps.’ There was a light in his pupils, a tease that tugged in her gut.

  She was going to show him, if it killed her. She could do this. He was not having an effect on her. She would not let him. Breathe. Don’t think about him. Focus. She closed her eyes and focused on her heartbeat. Opened them again. Caught the clay in her
sight. Traced it. Anticipated the dip and—‘Shoot! Yes! Yes!’

  The air was a fizz of pink powder.

  ‘Yes! You did good.’ He wasn’t quite jumping up and down as she was, but she could tell he was impressed. There was a grin on his face the size of Lake Wakatipu. ‘Do it again. Show me it wasn’t a fluke.’

  ‘How dare you? It was skill, not a fluke.’

  It was a fluke.

  The next clay crashed to the ground. And the next. ‘Aargh. This is so frustrating. I did it once, I’m going to do it again.’

  ‘You will. It takes practice. You’ve just got to keep going and going. You’ve so much grit you’ll get the hang of it.’ He stood back, but then bit his bottom lip and grimaced. ‘Oh, and by the way, I have a confession to make. I...er...lied.’

  ‘About?’ Her heart jumped to warp speed. She couldn’t imagine what he was going to say.

  ‘About the Commonwealth Games. I was nowhere near good enough. Not even a little bit. Not even Duncraggen best. Well...maybe Duncraggen best.’

  ‘Aargh, you.’ She shook her head but laughed as she swatted his shoulder. Because...yes, she wanted to touch him. ‘Why did you lie?’

  Because she had when she’d met him?

  ‘Just to see your face when you discovered I might be better than you at something. Priceless.’ He went to tug her ear defenders back on, but paused. And then the strangest thing... The atmosphere went from funny to serious in a nanosecond. His thumb trailed along her jawline then across her cheek to her lips. His gaze became heated and focused on her and he smiled. Sexy and more. She knew what he wanted and she wanted it too. A kiss. She wanted to feel his lips pressed on hers.

  Holy moly. She wanted to kiss him.

  The air stilled. Her heart thundered in her chest and she felt the need to run, hard and fast...away. But she was rooted to the spot. She couldn’t move if her life depended on it. She just wanted to see those eyes looking at her so intensely. To feel his mouth on hers.