And ten minutes later they found her.
Ginny was in the police car. Ben Cross should have been delegating; he should have been organising others, but those others would take time to get back from where they were searching to try again. Much easier to pile into the police car, put the lights on high beam and head along the track to the football ground.
And there she was.
At first Ginny thought she was imagining it-a sliver of light fading into the shadows at the side of the road the moment the headlights lit the road after a curve. But Ben had seen it, too, and he slammed on the brakes and was out of the car before her.
‘Madison,’ Ginny called, but there was no answer. But Ben had his huge flashlight and he was searching the undergrowth beside the road. There it was again, that flash of white, the cotton of the little girl’s nightie. Ben was through the undergrowth, using his body as a bulldozer, reaching…
He had her, lifting her out of the bushes as one would lift a terrified animal. He handed her to Ginny and Madison held herself rigid in her arms.
‘Madison,’ Ginny managed, trying to hug her close. ‘Sweetheart, you’re safe.’
‘I want my mummy,’ Madison whimpered, and the tiny body stayed rigid.
‘She’s not here.’
‘He said…’
There was the sound of another car, coming fast. Headlights, the car slowing as it reached them and stopping.
Fergus, climbing from the car, his face slack with relief.
‘You’ve found her.’
‘Just about where you said she would be,’ Ben said, looking worriedly at the small girl in Ginny’s arms. This was no happy ending.
‘I want my mummy,’ Madison whispered again, and shoved against Ginny’s body.
Ginny’s face crumpled in distress and Fergus reached forward.
‘Let me take her,’ he said, and he lifted her from Ginny’s arms and held her close, brooking no opposition. He’d held Molly when she’d been like this, when she’d been cross with him, which hadn’t been all that often, when doctors had been running tests and she’d started to be distressed.
Molly.
His face touched this little girl’s hair, his mouth brushing the top of her head in a feather kiss. He sat on the ground, even though it was rough and gravelled and not exactly the place to sit, and he motioned Ginny to sit with him.
Ben had kids of his own. He knew enough to stand back, to give them time.
‘I’ll radio off the search,’ he said, and disappeared into the police car.
‘Mummy.’ Madison was still rigid but Fergus’s grasp was firm and solid, using his body to cradle hers, willing warmth into the shivering child.
‘Your mummy’s not here,’ he said to Madison. ‘You know that.’
‘The man said…’ She hiccuped on a sob. ‘He said…’
‘I know what he said, but he was wrong,’ Fergus said in the tone of someone who wasn’t to be argued with. ‘Ginny told you what happened to your mummy.’
‘Ginny’s not a mummy.’
Beside him he heard Ginny draw in her breath and he felt her body stiffen. But she didn’t move away. She was sitting next to him, so close that her body touched his. It felt good. It felt…right.
And it gave him the courage to say what needed to be said, right now.
‘Ginny’s not a mummy yet,’ he said, soft and firm and sure. ‘But she’s very, very close to being a mummy. And she’s a doctor. She knows what’s right and what’s wrong, much more than the silly man who didn’t want flowers around his neck.’
‘He said-’
‘We know what he said, but he was wrong. He was feeling tired and crabby and he’d spilled his drink so he said something that he didn’t mean, just to make you feel bad. But you know where your mummy is, Madison. You know she’s not in the car.’
‘She is.’
‘No,’ Fergus said, and Ginny’s hand was suddenly covering one of his, the one that she could see as he hugged the little girl tight. ‘You know how I know? I’m a daddy. Daddies know things. Daddies know that, anyway.’
‘Whose daddy are you?’ she asked, and he winced, knowing he’d opened up yet another avenue Madison might find distressing. But suddenly the words were there and he knew what had to be said.
‘I was Molly’s daddy,’ he said softly. He hesitated but it might as well be said. It was what was in his heart. ‘Molly doesn’t need me anymore,’ he whispered. ‘But I think that you do. If you like, if you want me to, I’ll be your daddy.’
Maybe it was wrong, he thought. Maybe it was too soon after Richard. But Madison’s relationship with Richard had been fleeting. For Ginny to say to her now that she’d be her mother would be cruel and confusing. But to give her a daddy…
It could give her roots, he thought, hugging her tighter, and then he thought, It could give him roots.
‘You’re the doctor,’ Madison whispered in a voice tinged with doubt. ‘You’re not a daddy.’
‘I am a daddy as well as a doctor,’ he said evenly. ‘And I love your Ginny. I’ve been thinking… If it’s OK with you, I think we might be a family. I’ve lost my family. Ginny’s lost her family and you’ve lost your mummy. If we came together, I think we could make a really good new family. All of us. You and me and Ginny and Bounce and Twiggy and Snapper. We could all live together in Ginny’s lovely house and we could stay together for ever.’
There was a long silence. Ginny’s hand had lifted away in shock. It stayed lifted but suddenly it returned. Ginny’s hand rested on his, warm and sure and true, and her other hand came up to touch Madison’s soft hair.
‘That sounds really good, Madison,’ she whispered, and she smiled at Fergus in the moonlight as she said it. ‘Fergus has come up with a really good idea. What do you think?’
‘I’ll never find my mummy,’ the little girl whispered, and something in her voice told Fergus that this was necessary grief. Madison was letting go.
‘You know where your mummy’s shell is buried,’ Ginny was saying, smoothing down the tousled hair and moving closer so her own body was lending warmth to the child. ‘We’ll take flowers to the cemetery every time we want, and if you stand on her grave then I’ll bet she can hear us when we tell her things.’
‘Like telling her I’m going to live with Snapper and Twiggy and Bounce?’
‘Exactly.’
There was a long silence while Madison thought this through. The whole world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for a verdict.
Then, out of the silence, a shattering sob. ‘My mummy’s never coming back.’
‘No,’ Fergus whispered. ‘She isn’t.’
And with that it seemed the dam wall broke. Madison, who’d hardly cried these last awful weeks, who’d been self-contained, rigid, older than her years, sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.
They let her cry her heart out, sitting together on the verge of a gravel road in the middle of nowhere, while one sensible policeman held his peace, stayed back, let them do what they willed.
And finally the sobs eased, and when they did, Madison was curled against Fergus’s chest as if she belonged there. Which was how it should be, he thought. It was how it must be. From this day forth.
‘OK, Madison,’ Fergus whispered as the sobs eased to nothing. He rose, lifting her in his arms but still holding her tight against him, and Ginny rose with them. ‘Let’s take you home.’
‘Home,’ Madison whispered, clinging close. ‘To my own bed that Ginny said was mine. With Ginny. With Snapper and with Twiggy and with Bounce.’
‘Let’s not forget me,’ Fergus said, trying to keep his voice steady. ‘I’m part of this family, too.’
Madison opened her eyes at that, very wide, still tear-filled but gazing at him and then at Ginny. She was completely limp now, trusting them to do with her as they willed.
‘And me,’ she said. Her bottom lip wobbled a little but then she regained her composure. ‘Ginny and Twiggy and Snapper and Bounce and…and Daddy.
And me. And…my name is Maddy.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
FOUR o’clock in the morning. Time for all sensible people to be in bed.
Maddy had fallen asleep in the car on the way home. The searchers had all been thanked and had gone home. The police sergeant had officially watched Maddy be put to bed. He’d surreptitiously wiped away a tear and issued a stern warning to watch over her, and he’d left as well. The dogs had settled after the excitement.
Ginny and Fergus were sitting on the veranda steps, looking out over the lake.
‘You realise this means you have to marry me,’ Fergus said, and Ginny blinked.
‘That’s moving pretty fast.’
‘Maddy needs fast. I need fast. Do you have any objections?’
‘No,’ she said, and he turned and kissed her and nothing else was said for a very long time.
When finally there was room for speech again, Ginny snuggled her head down under his chin-there was a warm little spot right in the curve of his throat where she sort of fitted-and tried to think this thing through.
‘Um… Fergus, about marriage…’
‘Tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Or maybe today if we can swing it. Is there a time frame?’
‘I think it’s a month.’
‘That’s too long. We need a shotgun wedding. Is Gretna Green too far? Or Vegas? I hear they do great weddings in Vegas. Elvis and everything.’
‘No Elvis. I want dogs as my bridal attendants,’ she said serenely. ‘Vegas involves quarantine.’
‘Rats.’
Her chuckle faded. ‘Fergus, are you sure?’
‘I don’t know anything about quarantine.’
‘About me, stoopid,’ she said, and felt his body chuckle in response. This must be what paradise felt like, she thought. Home.
Home was where the heart was. Home was here.
‘I don’t think I can have children,’ she whispered.
‘Why not?’
‘I’m a carrier for cystic fibrosis.’
‘And I’m not,’ he replied. ‘After we had Molly I was tested for every genetic problem under the sun. You need two CF genes to make a CF baby and we only have one between us.’
‘No,’ she said, and tried to focus through the hazy, blissful bubble she was in. ‘But any baby of mine has a fifty per cent chance of being a carrier, like me.’
‘Then we’ll get them tested,’ he said. ‘We’ll teach them what CF involves and how they need to get their own partner tested.’
‘It’s not fair to keep this thing going.’
There was a moment’s pause. ‘You mean…you don’t want to have children because your child might carry a gene, and he or she might meet someone else with a gene and they might then have children with CF. That’s crazy.’
‘It’s not crazy.’
‘It is crazy,’ he said, pulling her against him and kissing her hair. ‘It’s like banning buses because they kill people. Our babies have the potential to be absolutely fantastic people.’ He smirked. ‘Your looks and my intelligence…’
She punched him.
‘Seriously,’ he said, and spent a little more time kissing her to show her just how serious he was. ‘Ginny, our marriage will be fantastic. You and I will be a team, providing this valley with a medical service they’ve only dreamed about. Doctors are afraid of being lone practitioners, but this valley could use a multi-doctor service. I’m betting once we set up a viable service, we’ll attract more.
‘As for us… We’ll employ a wonderful, ruddy-faced housekeeper and we’ll restore this house to what it ought to be-a family home. We’ll buy dog food in bulk. We’ll take in orphan lambs. I intend to grow tomatoes because I’ve always fancied growing tomatoes. We’ll give our Maddy the best childhood a child could ever wish for, and if a lovely brother or sister appears to complete the picture then we’ll say thank you very much. What do you say to that, Ginny Viental? My gorgeous Dr Viental. My dearest love?’
‘I’d say it sounds like a pipe dream,’ Ginny said, and she couldn’t keep the tears from her voice. ‘It sounds like a fairy-tale happy ending.’
‘A happy beginning,’ he said roughly, and started kissing her again. ‘Just watch this space. Dreams come true, Ginny, love. Life holds promise. I’m a surgeon and I should know. I’m starting operating right now. Operation Family.’
‘Dreams don’t come true,’ she whispered, but she didn’t sound sure, and she loved it that he laughed and kissed her still more deeply.
‘Yes, they do,’ he whispered. ‘Operation Family starts right now. We need two doctors at the table. Are you ready, Dr Viental?’
‘Oh, yes, my love,’ she whispered, and he chuckled again.
‘I don’t think we need theatre gowns for this operation,’ he said thickly. ‘Do you?’
MARION LENNOX
Marion Lennox is a country girl, born on a southeast Australia dairy farm. She moved on-mostly because the cows just weren’t interested in her stories! Married to a very special doctor, Marion writes for Harlequin Medical Romance® as well as Harlequin Romance®, where she used to write as Trisha David for a while. In her nonwriting life, Marion cares for kids, cats, dogs, chickens and goldfish. She travels, and she fights her rampant garden (she’s losing) and her house dust (she’s lost). After an early detected bout with breast cancer she’s also reprioritized her life, figured out what’s important, and discovered the joys of deep baths, romance and chocolate. Preferably all at the same time!
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Rescue at Cradle Lake Page 18
