The Nurse's Special Delivery

by Louisa George

  ‘I’ve been reading a lot of “what to expect” books and have followed the pregnancy from being two little lines on a stick, every moment, every scan, every ginger biscuit for morning sickness. Emma knows what she’s doing. She’ll help me.’

  If we’re still friends at the end.

  Truth was, Emma hadn’t given Abbie one single hint that she wasn’t happy doing this. But you just never knew, did you? In the end? Guilt rolled through Abbie again. Here she was riding a damned horse and Emma was waddling around work, looking after Queenstown’s injured, carrying a baby, thinking about how she was going to entertain her five-year-old later.

  How could she ever repay her?

  The route opened up to rolling hills covered in tussock grass, past an old dilapidated shed and duck pond, then downhill. Abbie remembered to lean back a little to stop her from falling. It was a long way down to hard earth.

  Cal’s eyebrows rose in question. ‘So, you’ve got no family around, then?’

  ‘None here.’

  ‘They’re where?’

  Abbie thought about her parents, who’d given her the choice to move overseas with them back before she’d even met Michael but she’d waved them off on a mid-life adventure never thinking for a moment how alone she’d end up being. ‘They semi-retired to a little village in the South of France. They have a small bed and breakfast there and three apartments here. The one I live in, next door where Emma and Rosie live, and the one on the end of the block. They rent the end one out as a holiday let, and use it when they come home. Which is getting less and less frequent. They’ve really got into the ex-pat lifestyle in Europe and the weather helps Mum’s asthma.’

  ‘You must miss them.’

  ‘Of course. Especially...when Michael... Sorry, I shouldn’t keep talking about him.’

  Cal shook his head, giving no emotion away, certainly no frustration. ‘You don’t, not really. He was a big part of your life. I understand.’

  She wasn’t sure if he really did or was just being kind. Because he wasn’t exactly going to tell her certain subjects were out of bounds, was he? ‘So, anyway, yes... What with a new baby and getting ready for Christmas, I have lists coming out of my ears.’

  Callum shifted in the saddle and peered closely at her head. ‘No. Nothing there that I can see.’

  ‘Okay, smart guy. My phone’s stuffed full of lists, I’m nowhere nearer putting up a tree or anything and yet here I am with you. Again. Playing hooky.’

  ‘It’s my animal magnetism. Women just can’t resist it.’

  If she could have swatted him she would have; as it was, all she could do was tut. Loudly. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Mr Baird. I’m only back here because I don’t want to show you up. Otherwise I’d be off in the wind, galloping across the grass.’

  ‘Sure you would, honey.’ He grinned, holding the saddle and rocking forward and back on his horse like a cowboy from a film. So sure of himself, so confident. So damned—

  He interrupted those thoughts. ‘Why did you tell me—that first time, I think it was—that you didn’t like Christmas?’

  ‘Oh, you remember that? Well... Christmas always used to be a big thing for me and Michael. He loved making things magical for me. Then...’ She swallowed at the memory of how they’d known that the last Christmas was going to be exactly that. So she’d gone all out to make it special and it had been. Nothing could beat that, the little cocoon of intense emotion. ‘Then it was just me. And it kept on being just me. Of course, I had lots of invitations to go out and Emma made me talk to people and socialise at some point. Last Christmas I spent in hospital after a miscarriage. A failed IVF.’ She wasn’t sure if she should have said anything because Cal seemed to close down a little at that. ‘Sorry, too much information?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. Not at all. You’ve had it tough, Abbie. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Not your fault.’ She didn’t tell him about the other four miscarriages before, during and after Michael’s illness. The IVF, the waiting game. The hopeful Christmas songs that made her feel as if her heart was breaking. ‘Anyway, let’s not spoil this day. All that’s in the past.’

  ‘Aye well, the past has a way of hanging around a bit, doesn’t it?’

  She determined to throw off this air of sadness and so she made herself smile and breathe in the fresh air. ‘No. Not today.’

  Up ahead Bryn had stopped and was waiting, but Cal waved her on. ‘We’re good, thanks! We’re fine.’

  She waved back, then started to trot on towards the almost dried-up riverbed covered in gravel and stones, and a small beach area. When they caught up she rubbed her hands together. ‘Okay, you two. You’re doing very well. Cal, you say you’ve ridden before?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘And, Abbie? You used to ride?’

  ‘A bit, yes. I can trot and canter a little.’ She didn’t want to think about how long ago it was. She was hardly a pro, but she’d aced pony club when she was seven.

  Bryn pointed forward. ‘Well, the river stretches on for miles and it’s like this all the way to a small wooden bridge. When you get there wait for me, okay? I’ll keep back and make sure you’re okay. Whenever you’re ready.’

  Cal raised his eyebrows. ‘Ready?’

  No. But she wasn’t about to let him see that. A good gallop would shake off the doom and gloom that she’d introduced into the conversation. What they needed was another race. ‘Any time, mate.’

  ‘Yes, because I can see from your white knuckles that you’re very relaxed and ready to gallop.’

  She opened and closed her fingers, then grabbed the reins again. ‘Like I said, I’m just getting back in the saddle.’ And if that didn’t sound like a come on, she didn’t know what did. ‘I mean...’

  ‘I know exactly what you mean.’ There was a tease in his eyes and he laughed. ‘How do you feel about going just a little bit faster?’

  ‘Fine, I think.’

  He reached out and stroked her arm, his eyes intense. ‘Okay, just relax and stop thinking about all the things you should be doing and everything that’s happened before. Just enjoy this. This moment. Live in this moment—or whatever thing you’re meant to do.’

  ‘Okay. I’d never pegged you for New Age, but okay.’

  ‘Great. Relax. Breathe in. That’s right. Excellent. In again. Out. And...race you!’ He kicked hard and sped off, disappearing in an arc of water that curled high around him.

  ‘Hey!’ Typical! Always trying to out-run or out-shoot or just plain beat her. Laughter bubbled up from her gut and she squeezed her ankles against Kelly’s flank. ‘Come on, Kel. Let’s go. Let’s show him.’

  It was like flying. Well, a bit soggier than flying, but with the wind in her hair and spray on her face she felt the most alive she’d felt for years. This was absolutely the best way to spend a day off. Freedom from thinking about anything but the moment. And Cal.

  Yes, Cal.

  He was standing in the stirrups now, one hand raised in the air, a loud cry of something joyous splitting the air.

  So she stood up too, raised her hand and was just about to scream when Kelly stopped. Just stopped. And lowered her neck.

  The next moment Abbie was falling forward and somehow sideways and tumbling and there was no way she could stop it. The great hulk of horse seemed to shift, or Abbie did or something, and the ground was rising up to her, too fast. Too fast.

  Reaching her hand out, she tried to ease the impact but her bones bumped and crunched onto gravel and stones and water. All breath was pushed from her lungs and she felt the impact reverberate through her like shock waves. She wanted to cry out, but there was no air. Just pain. A sharp pain in her left wrist.

  And right then—in that moment that she had been so concerned about living in—she realised what an utter idiot she’d been. What a
risk she’d taken.

  Because how could you look after a newborn baby with a broken arm?

  ‘Abbie! Abbie! Are you okay? Hell.’ She heard the thump of hooves and the splash as Cal dismounted. But she didn’t want to look up and see him because that would admit to all the rules she’d broken. How stupid was she? Why would she do something so reckless?

  He was by her side, kneeling in the shallow water as if it didn’t matter, and then looking at her as if she really did. His hands ran over her face, down her shoulders. ‘What happened? Where do you hurt?’

  ‘It’s nothing. I fell, that’s all. She just stopped. I don’t know why.’

  He turned to the horses and caught the reins that were dipping into the water, tied them around a large rock. Then he turned back. ‘Let me look.’

  She didn’t want him to look, didn’t want to look herself. Because it would only scream how irresponsible she’d been. She could feel the prick of tears. Humiliation. Guilt. Shame. But most of all because it actually bloody hurt.

  But instead of looking at her wrist he kept on looking into her eyes. ‘You’re not okay at all.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Stop being brave and come here.’

  The next thing she knew she was pressed against his chest, his arms tight around her. He was hot from riding, his breathing hitched. His hand clasped the back of her neck, stroking her hair as he whispered soothing noises and words that seemed to reach into her heart and tug so tightly she wanted to cry even more. ‘You’ll be fine, wee lassie. You’re okay. You’re safe. It’s okay. It’s okay, we’ll fix you up.’

  But she wasn’t okay at all. Because the longer she stayed wrapped here in him, the more she couldn’t bear the thought of tearing herself away. Everything hurt; every bone and sinew in her left hand, every riposte she shot at herself was like a knife jabbing at her. She was stupid and foolish and reckless and what kind of an almost-mother did that? What kind of a responsible person would take such a risk?

  But she was also a woman. A widow.

  A woman.

  A woman whose only thought right now was that she was in the arms of a good man. A sexy man, hell, not just sex on legs, but gorgeous and kind, and who stirred something deep inside her.

  She’d been through enough heartache to last her for the rest of her years, and was going to devote all her energy to her child when it came, so she deserved just one moment in the arms of a strong man.

  So she let her body be lulled by Cal’s heat, let her mind be hypnotised by his voice and she lay her head against his chest and breathed him in. Breathed in a man who wasn’t her husband, who wasn’t the father of her child, who wasn’t someone who could offer anything other than comfort right here and now. But she didn’t care; she wanted that. Just a moment where she could be a woman who was being comforted, protected, cherished. By a man like Callum Baird.

  Suddenly she realised her heart was raging fast and it wasn’t from the fall. Her body was hot and buzzing, but not from the exertion of exercise. The stroke of his hand on her back made her press harder against him. Her mouth was wet and yet dry. Her breathing fast and unsteady. Like her thoughts. She liked this. She liked him. She wanted him.

  ‘Hey.’ He edged away from her, holding her shoulders, tugging gently. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘No. No, I don’t think I am.’ She closed her eyes, suddenly unsure. Did he want her the same way? And then what? Kissing him was a one-way ticket to heartbreak.

  But she wasn’t sure she could stop it either. She opened her eyes and touched his cheek, ignoring the sharp twist of pain that shot up her arm. This was one moment she was going to take for herself and to hell with broken bones and broken hearts.

  He was so close, his gaze on hers, the heat there mirroring the way she felt. He wanted her. She didn’t need to ask. ‘Where do you hurt, Abbie?’

  ‘Here.’ She touched her heart, feeling raw and exposed and turned on all at the same time. ‘Because I’m going to kiss you and I don’t know what will happen next.’

  He sighed and laughed and ran his thumb over her lip in that way of his that made her knees buckle. ‘Well, let’s find out, shall we?’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IT WAS NO USE. He couldn’t resist any more. There were too many emotions swirling in his chest and all of them were because of her. For a moment he’d thought she’d done some serious damage, then it was just relief she was alive and okay, and then hot on the heels of that the sharp tang of need.

  Cal lowered his mouth an inch from hers. Seeing the desire in her eyes, but a struggle there too, almost broke him. ‘Abbie, are you sure?’

  Because, despite all the bravado, he had no idea what the hell was going to happen either, or even what could happen.

  The struggle was still there as she nodded and edged towards him, but it had been overridden with longing. He cupped the back of her neck and tilted her mouth towards his, his reservations exploding into a thousand pieces the second his lips touched hers.

  There was a tentative moment that was almost innocent exploration, then she opened her mouth to him and he couldn’t stop the very un-innocent groan coming from his throat. His mouth slid against hers as sensation after sensation pumped through him. She tasted of the mountain air and fresh river water, so good. So damned good.

  Her hand snaked around his neck and she shifted in the water until they were both on their knees, pressed together, his palms cupping her face. Her scent was all around, and he couldn’t get enough of it. Of her. There was something about her that tugged and tugged and tugged at his heart, at his groin.

  At his heart.

  He deepened the kiss, seeking out her tongue as a heat started to build inside him. This was what those little games had been about; the races, the give and take, the push and pull, dancing around what was so inevitable—that despite every single sensible reason not to, everything would lead to this. This.

  His gut contracted at the feel of little beats of pressure as her soft body pressed against him, a perfect fit in his arms. There were so many things he wanted to do to her, and with her, right now he could barely think straight. He slid his hand down her neck, down the side of her jacket and under her jumper, a riot of stars bursting in his head as he touched the soft skin there.

  But then she was pulling away, breathing fast, and there were tears in her eyes that she was trying to blink away.

  He wasn’t sure his heart would be able to take much more. There was something about her that made him putty in her hands; he would give her the world, just for another kiss. To kiss those tears away. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘My arm.’ She was cradling it in her good hand. ‘I think I’ve done some serious damage.’

  ‘What? Let me look.’ He’d been kissing her while she was hurting and needing medical attention? Stupid bloody fool. Then he wanted to curse loudly as he took her hand and saw her wedding ring glinting in the sun. All desire leached away. At least, in his head, anyway. In his gut he still wanted her. In his heart he still wanted her. But wanting her was a hiding to nothing. She had more baggage than anyone else he’d met—apart from him. ‘You always seem to get hurt when I’m around.’

  ‘It’ll be okay. It’s nothing, I’m sure.’ She gave him a smile, but it seemed a little wobbly and unsure and he couldn’t help wondering if she’d looked at her wedding ring and thought the same thing he had. Or whether she was just in pain. ‘I hope it isn’t broken. The last thing I need is a plaster cast and a new baby.’

  ‘Could make things interesting, for sure.’ That hadn’t even occurred to him. He was going to say the cast would probably be off by then and that he’d help all he could, when he remembered he couldn’t. There was a thundering in his chest. What a big mistake this whole thing had been.

  ‘Ahem.’ It was Bryn. God knew how long she’d been standing t
here; he hadn’t heard her approach and she was on foot, leading her horse. ‘Sorry to interrupt, but are you okay?’

  Wincing, Abbie jumped up, water dripping from the knees of her jeans. She held up her hand, which was swollen and starting to colour in deep purples and reds. ‘Kelly wasn’t in the mood for a runabout. She clearly just wants to eat.’ Abbie nodded towards the horse, who was tugging at the tussock grass with her large teeth, oblivious to what she’d just done. ‘But I think I might need an X-ray on my hand.’

  Bryn’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Only, I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to...er...interrupt.’

  Because we were too busy making out when we shouldn’t have been.

  Cal’s chest constricted. He’d kissed her without thought for anything other than that moment.

  Kissed her.

  He wrapped an arm around Abbie’s shoulders, making a mental vow to look after her, but not to start any more kissing or...anything else. There were too many reasons not to. ‘We just need to get her out of these wet clothes, and then down to the hospital.’

  ‘No problem, let’s get you back to the farm and we can take it from there.’ Bryn took hold of Kelly’s reins and handed them to Cal. ‘Abbie, can you manage to get back on? Do you want to?’

  She was shivering now. Shock. Cold. Passion? That had taken a very definite downturn. ‘I don’t know. But I guess it’d be quicker if I did.’

  ‘Absolutely, we’ve come a long way and it’s an uphill hike home. There’s a boulder over there. If we walk Kelly over you can climb up onto her again—if you’re sure? She’s a real plodder usually. That’s why I give her to the less experienced riders. I can’t imagine what she was thinking.’

  Abbie gave a wry smile, her shoulders sagging a little. ‘She was just interested in the grass, and I was propelled forward. I shouldn’t have been standing up in the saddle for a start.’