Hijacked Honeymoon

by Marion Lennox

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Abbey Wittner,’ she told herself harshly. ‘Just because the man’s good-looking and smiles just the way he used to… It doesn’t mean he’s the same. It doesn’t mean you still have to be in love with him… ’

  There were giggles coming from the kitchen. Abbey listened for a whole two minutes and then could bear it no longer. She grabbed the hospital crutches from the bedside and staggered forth, her first venture on four legs.

  Ryan Henry was seated at Abbey’s kitchen table and he was feeding her son.

  Abbey stopped at the kitchen door and blinked, and blinked again. Janet was smiling with pleasure while Ryan aeroplaned Jack’s egg into his mouth. It was hard to know who was having the most fun-Jack, Jack’s grandma, Janet or the man with the egg aeroplanes.

  ‘Jack doesn’t like egg,’ Abbey said slowly, and Ryan and Janet turned towards her. Not Jack. Her little son didn’t look up. The toddler was concentrating fiercely on catching and eating the next aeroplane.

  Jack doesn’t like egg?

  ‘More,’ said Jack.

  ‘Says who?’ Ryan asked politely. He gave Abbey a mocking smile and went back to his aeronautics. Jack demolished the last mouthful of egg and crowed with delight.

  ‘Ryan does a finer aeroplane than you or I ever did.’ Janet’s smile deepened as she stood and shifted awkwardly to the stove. ‘Sit down, child, and I’ll give you your dinner. I kept it hot.’

  Abbey frowned and looked at the clock above the big old fire stove. And winced.

  Seven o’clock!

  ‘We let you sleep,’ Janet explained. ‘We thought it was best.’

  ‘I see.’ Abbey didn’t see at all. She looked at Ryan with suspicion. ‘Did Janet feed you, then?’

  ‘There’s no need to say it like it’s taking food from your mouths,’ Ryan complained. ‘Janet said there was heaps.’

  ‘And so there is,’ Janet said warmly. ‘Ryan’s milked all the cows and it’s only taken him two and a half hours to do it.’

  ‘Two and a half…’ Abbey’s eyes widened and twinkled. ‘Did the girls give you a hard time, Ryan?’

  ‘They learned who was boss,’ Ryan said evenly. ‘Eventually.’

  ‘He might need a loan of your crutches or my walking stick,’ Janet interjected. ‘He got himself kicked.’

  Abbey lifted her brows in sympathetic enquiry. ‘Really? Badly, Ryan? Let me see.’

  ‘No way,’ Ryan said darkly. ‘And don’t ask where. Enough to say it’s a place where the sun rarely shines. It’s not crutches I need but a gynaecological pillow.’

  A gynaecological pillow was a pillow shaped like an inner tyre to take the pressure from sore bottoms after childbirth. Abbey grinned in swift sympathy.

  ‘Oh, dear.’

  ‘He was bending over to tie one girl’s legs and he forgot the girl in the next bail wasn’t tied,’ Janet explained. She looked over at Abbey and her eyes twinkled. She chuckled out loud and Abbey’s eyes widened even further. It had been a long time since she’d heard Janet chuckle.

  Janet placed a plate of casserole on the table. Abbey lowered herself thoughtfully into the chair and surveyed her family.

  It all seemed so… so domestic. To have Ryan sitting in the chair at the other end of the table, calmly wiping superfluous egg from her son’s little face. The kitchen had been empty… well, it had seemed empty since they’d moved here. Ryan filled John’s place and more, his charismatic presence holding Janet and the baby spellbound.

  And what about Abbey herself?

  She had loved this man once, she conceded. Or maybe that was wrong. She’d loved this boy before he’d become a man. This boy was now a surgeon-a career-oriented doctor, engaged to be married to a woman in Hawaii and home for only two weeks.

  Home?

  No. This wasn’t Ryan’s home. This was his honeymoon destination. Abbey gave herself a fast mental shake. It was no use growing accustomed to Ryan being at her kitchen table. In two weeks he’d be gone.

  Once, many years ago, she’d broken her heart over his leaving. Not any more. Now she didn’t even know him.

  ‘Your leg’s hurting,’ Ryan said softly, and Abbey flushed as she realised he’d been watching her.

  ‘N-no.’ she lied. ‘Well, maybe just a bit.’

  ‘Do you want more morphine?’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ll take aspirin if I need to.’

  ‘Aspirin’s not strong enough, Abbey.’ Once again, that cool voice which held a hint of concern-a voice that was close to Abbey’s undoing. The same voice she remembered from all those years ago. ‘It’s no weakness to admit you’re in pain. And there’ll be scratches and bruises under that filthy T-shirt. Would you like me to help you bath?’

  ‘No way!’ She blinked, determined. ‘And I’ll stick to aspirin, thanks very much. Morphine will just make me go to sleep.’

  ‘That’s just what you need to do, girl,’ Janet said strongly, and Abbey shook her head.

  ‘No. I have to bath Jack and put him-’

  ‘In case you haven’t noticed, Jack’s in his pyjamas,’ Janet told her. ‘Ryan and I have already bathed Jack.’

  Abbey blinked. ‘You!’ Her eyes swivelled to Ryan.

  ‘There’s no need to sound as if you think I’m completely useless,’ Ryan complained. ‘I can cope with the odd baby bath.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Abbey gave him a sideways look. ‘How many babies have you bathed in your time, Ryan Henry?’

  ‘One,’ he said promptly. ‘But it was a brilliant one, wasn’t it, Jack?’ He grinned down at Abbey’s little son and Jack grinned a toothy toddler smile right back at him.

  ‘I… I see.’ Abbey couldn’t help staring. This man was making himself right at home. Jack was normally shy…

  ‘It wasn’t all that brilliant,’ Janet conceded. ‘I told him what to do.’

  ‘Not necessary.’

  ‘It was necessary, young Ryan,’ Janet told him, and Ryan smiled and sat back in his chair like a rebuked schoolboy. ‘I just wish I could do it myself.’ Janet’s smile faded. ‘If I could lift him…’

  ‘He’s too heavy for you to lift from the bath,’ Abbey said, as if repeating a conversation that had been played out a hundred times. ‘But, Janet, if you’d get your hip fixed… ’

  ‘Your hip?’ Ryan turned to look consideringly at Janet. ‘Now that’s what I don’t understand. Tell me why you’re dependent on sticks.’

  ‘Arthritis,’ Janet said shortly. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘It does.’ Abbey leaned forward and spoke urgently to Ryan. ‘Janet’s in urgent need of a hip replacement. If she had that… well, she’d be like a girl again. But I can’t persuade her to get it done.’

  ‘I’d have to go to Cairns,’ Janet said harshly, ‘and I won’t leave you, girl. You need me.’

  ‘I can get a babysitter…’

  ‘For a month or more? And who’d feed the poultry and look after Jack and-?’

  ‘Who’ll push your wheelchair when your leg gives completely? ’ Abbey retorted.

  Ryan held up a hand. ‘Whoa… Is there something I’m missing here?’

  ‘Yes,’ Abbey said shortly. ‘Or rather-no. There are no complications. She should get it done and she won’t.’

  ‘I won’t go to Cairns,’ Janet muttered. ‘I’d hate it’

  ‘I’d come and visit you,’ Abbey told her.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Janet jeered. ‘In your spare time?’

  ‘Why not do it here?’ Ryan asked, and both women turned to stare at him.

  Silence.

  It was Abbey who spoke first.

  ‘Well, that’s a crazy suggestion,’ she said simply. ‘Firstly, I’m the only doctor here and I can’t operate and give anaesthetic at the same time. Secondly, and more importantly, I’m not a surgeon, much less an orthopaedic surgeon with the skills to do hip replacements. I can do an appendicectomy in an absolute emergency, with my charge sister giving anaesthetic, but that’s an end to it. With my know
ledge of orthopaedics, I’d end up having Janet walking backwards.’

  Ryan smiled, but his smile was perfunctory. ‘I could, though,’ he said. ‘I told you when I put your knee back, Abbey. My specialty’s orthopaedics.’

  More silence.

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Abbey said finally, and her voice was faintly mocking. This was cruel. ‘Maybe you could. If we had the equipment. If we had an anaesthetist and back-up staff. If you were registered to work here. If pigs flew!’

  ‘Registered…’ Ryan centred on only one objection. ‘If I can organise everything else, is registration likely to be a problem?’

  ‘Well, maybe not,’ Abbey admitted. ‘You’re not Australian trained, but with your Australian citizenship, your training and the fact that we’re a remote hospital… ’

  ‘Remote?’

  ‘It’s why I accepted your offer of help this week,’ Abbey explained. ‘Because Sapphire Cove’s categorised as remote, if any doctor is stupid en-I mean, willing enough to work here and their basic overseas training is acceptable, we can get their registration through in a flash.’

  ‘I see.’ Ryan’s magnetic grin flashed out. ‘So…I’ve just offered to be stupid.’

  ‘I’m not having any hip operated on,’ Janet broke in harshly. She’d been staring from Abbey to Ryan in confusion. ‘Abbey, this is crazy. Who’d look after Jack if I was in hospital?’

  ‘If Ryan can organise a few pigs to fly I don’t see why you should object,’ Abbey said promptly. ‘If! But Ryan’s doing my work for me. Didn’t you hear him offer? And Marcia over the road was put off work last week. The resorts always lay off staff during stinger season. Janet, let’s not throw any more obstacles in his way than Ryan already has. He’s offered me his honeymoon and you a new hip. What next?’

  What next, indeed?

  Ryan sat at the table as Janet and Abbey talked across him, and he felt as if he’d been knocked sideways.

  Why on earth had he made that offer?

  To do a hip replacement here… in such a place…

  It wasn’t that he doubted his ability to organise it. Routine procedures such as hip replacements were now left to those working under him and there were favours he could call in to get equipment and staff. It was just…

  Well, this was his honeymoon, after all. He’d have to beg, borrow or steal equipment from a bigger hospital. Pull in favours from all over the place. It’d take a couple of days to get everything he needed. At a guess, Felicity would arrive just as he’d lined up Theatre.

  Felicity would not be happy.

  But Abbey was.

  Ryan looked over the table and Abbey’s eyes were misting as she looked at her mother-in-law. And then Abbey turned to look at him.

  ‘If you could organise it, it’d be the best thing…’ she said, and her voice shook.

  Ryan’s astonishment at what he’d just offered lifted a little.

  He’d eased just a fraction of the load on Abbey’s slight shoulders and for some reason-well, for some reason he suddenly didn’t give a toss what Felicity would say. He had to do it. He felt lighter himself.

  And then the phone rang.

  One thing Ryan had learned early in medical school was that the most emotional moments of his life-or the most embarrassing-were always punctuated with the phone.

  The mobile phone shrilled, and both Abbey and Ryan looked down at their waists.

  Abbey grinned and held up her hands.

  ‘You win,’ she said, as Ryan flipped his phone open.

  Then her smile faded as she watched Ryan’s face.

  ‘Ryan, what is it?’

  Ryan was talking harshly into the phone.

  ‘They’re already bringing him in? OK, I’ll be there as fast as I can.’

  And Ryan was on his feet, his chair clattering to the floor behind him. He didn’t even notice that he’d knocked it over.

  ‘What is it?’ It had to be something awful, Abbey knew. All the colour had drained out of Ryan’s face.

  ‘It’s my father,’ he said shortly. ‘It sounds like he’s had a heart attack.’

  ‘Oh, no…’ Janet went white and automatically clutched Jack, as if clutching the baby could ward off catastrophe.

  ‘Not another one.’ Abbey rose too, grabbing her crutches and shoving them under her arms. ‘Ryan, give me a hand out to the car.’

  Ryan stopped dead, and stared back at Abbey. His face had grown suddenly haggard. ‘What do you mean-another? ’

  ‘He’s had three this year,’ Abbey told him bluntly. ‘He’s running on borrowed time.’

  ‘But-’

  ‘Ryan, shut up and move,’ Abbey ordered. She gave Jack a fast pat goodbye. ‘See you later, sweetheart. Mummy has to go back to the hospital. Be good for Gran. Janet, I’ll look after Sam for you, I swear. Don’t worry.’ And Abbey grabbed her crutches and headed for the door.

  ‘You’re not coming,’ Ryan said automatically, but Abbey was already on her way.

  ‘Just help me into the damned car,’ she said harshly. ‘I’m not leaving you to look after your own father and, besides, Janet and I love Sam Henry.’

  And what Abbey didn’t say-and both of them knew-was that if Sam was in real trouble then Ryan could become next to useless. To be an efficient doctor was an impossibility when the patient was so close.

  And if hard decisions had to be made… if life support systems had to be shut down…

  Well, Abbey was coming!

  Ryan was so shocked he didn’t speak again until they were halfway to the hospital.

  When he did he sounded sick.

  ‘Tell me Dad’s medical history, Abbey.’

  With Ryan’s help, Abbey had hauled herself into the back seat again, her leg stretched out before her. Her position hadn’t been achieved without cost. From the hip down, her leg was starting to ache as it had before the morphine, a dull, rhythmic throb.

  ‘Don’t you know?’ She shifted and winced.

  ‘I didn’t even know he had a heart problem.’ Ryan swore savagely. ‘So tell me!’

  Ryan didn’t know? Abbey shook her head in concern. How much didn’t he know?

  ‘Well, Sam’s like Janet,’ Abbey said slowly, ‘only it’s more drastic. He desperately needs by-pass surgery but he won’t have it’

  ‘Why not?’

  Abbey shrugged. ‘He says it’s because he doesn’t want to leave the farm. Myself, I think it’s more than that.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean he’s a lonely old man with no family,’ Abbey said gently. ‘He’s fond of Janet and Jack and me, but we’re all he has and we’re not enough. I don’t think he wants to live to a ripe old age.’

  ‘But that’s…’ Ryan shook his head. ‘That’s…’

  ‘Nonsense?’ Abbey shrugged. ‘Well, I guess you’d know better than I do. You’re his son, after all. But, then, you’re his son and you didn’t even know he had a heart condition.’

  ‘I write.’ Ryan said explosively. ‘I write every week.’

  Abbey screwed up her nose. She knew about those letters. ‘Yes, you do,’ she said gently. ‘I’m sure your concern does you credit.’

  ‘Abbey…’

  ‘Why has he had a heart attack now?’ Abbey asked, staring into the middle distance over Ryan’s shoulder. ‘Has he been stressed?’

  ‘How the hell should I know?’

  ‘There you are, then.’

  ‘Damn it, Abbey… ’

  Abbey ignored his mounting anger. Someone had to lay the truth before Ryan Henry. A letter once a week… Sam had shown her a few. Proudly. And Abbey had felt sick inside when she’d seen them.

  They were formal, punctilious letters, describing Ryan’s career, the weather, the news wherever Ryan happened to be in the world. Always a polite enquiry after his father’s health at the end.

  They were duty letters. The fact that Sam had been proud of them had made Abbey cringe inside.

  ‘How was he today, though?’ Abbey probed. ‘Was h
e happy to see you? Relaxed?’

  ‘I haven’t seen him yet,’ Ryan said explosively. ‘I hit a bicyclist on the way into town-remember?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ But Abbey didn’t sound apologetic in the least. She kept right on probing. ‘So-did he mind when you let him know you’d be late?’

  ‘I didn’t let him know… ’

  Silence.

  ‘You mean…’ Abbey’s voice grew softer. ‘Ryan, Sam told me he was expecting you about midday. He’s been talking of nothing else for weeks. He’s been talking of his son coming home. Waiting. And what time is it now? Eight? He’ll have been pacing the floor-’

  ‘I was milking your cows, dammit.’

  Abbey bit back her anger with real difficulty. ‘I know and I’m grateful but… Ryan, how long would it have taken you to phone him-to tell him you’d be eight hours late? How long, Ryan Henry? You didn’t even think.’

  ‘I had to milk your cows. And you didn’t tell me-’

  ‘I didn’t tell you that your father has a bad heart and you should ring and reassure him?’ Abbey took a deep breath. Her leg was on fire and her anger was building to boiling point. She’d watched Sam Henry pine for his family for almost twenty years and she hadn’t been able to do a damned thing about it. And now Ryan was sitting in the driving seat, practically saying it was her fault Sam had this attack.

  She wasn’t going to yell. She wouldn’t!

  ‘How could I have said that to you without sounding like a patronising adult talking to an uncaring, unthinking child?’ she asked finally, and her voice was deathly quiet. ‘I wish I’d known that’s exactly what you are!’

  And after that there was nothing-absolutely nothing-left to say.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SAM HENRY was in Intensive Care when they arrived. His worry and anger building to a crescendo, Ryan abandoned Abbey in the car and strode down the hospital corridor fast, the night charge sister by his side.

  Ryan looked every inch a doctor, Abbey thought as she watched him go, walking as all hospital staff were taught to move in an emergency. Walk fast-never run. Never risk barrelling into patients and making things worse.

  There was more than the way he moved that showed the world Ryan was a doctor, though. Ryan Henry exuded authority and competence. The night sister automatically deferred to him when they arrived, without once looking at Abbey for confirmation of his authority.