Weekend with the Best Man

by Leah Martyn

  Lindsey drew in her breath and let it go. ‘I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.’

  A beat of silence, absolute and prickling with awareness and disbelief.

  A baby. Dan felt his heart double in size. For a second he felt his life spinning out of control and then it slowed and came right. And he was able to think. ‘We always used protection.’

  ‘Well, we obviously slipped up. It happens.’

  Another beat of silence.

  ‘Have I ruined your life?’ he asked quietly.

  Lindsey looked at him uncomprehendingly.

  ‘Do you want to be pregnant?’ he asked in the same quiet manner.

  She jerked upright. ‘Are you asking if I want your baby, Dan? Our baby? Perhaps I should be asking you if you want it. Because if you don’t—’

  His kiss cut her off. Rough. Then gentle. Sweeter than sweet. She felt his chest rise and fall in a broken sigh. ‘Give me a break, Lins. I think I’m in shock. But I also think I’m ecstatic.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Did you think I wouldn’t be? Our own baby.’ His hand smoothed over her tummy as if he hoped there might already be changes. ‘When did you find out?’

  ‘Just yesterday.’ She went on to tell him about Sami and Nathan’s news and how she’d identified with some of Sami’s symptoms.

  Dan chuckled. ‘Nathan a dad! What a stud, eh!’

  Lindsey slid her hands around his neck. ‘Our babies will grow up together. Won’t that be a laugh?’

  He pressed a kiss into her hair. ‘What about you? Are you feeling all right?’

  ‘Think so,’ she murmured.

  ‘Do you have an ob you prefer?’ Dan’s mind skipped to professional matters.

  ‘Therese Gordon.’ She paused. ‘And don’t take this the wrong way, Dan, but I don’t want you hovering.’

  ‘Oh.’ Dan felt his throat suddenly dry. A thousand reasons why he should be hovering juxtaposed in his head. And who could blame him—after last time? But there was nothing to indicate that Lindsey’s pregnancy would be anything but perfectly straightforward. He had to get that through his head. ‘OK.’ He took a deep breath and let it go. ‘I promise I won’t be neurotic about things. But I would like to be there for your scans and ultrasounds.’

  ‘And I’ll want you there,’ Lindsey hastened to reassure him. ‘Like any normal expectant dad.’ She brushed a kiss across his mouth. ‘I love you, Dan, but this is us.’

  And thank heaven for that. Mentally, Dan kicked all his uncertainties to oblivion, resolving to leave them there.

  Lindsey snuggled closer. ‘I’m so glad you’re back.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘How was it?’

  ‘A bit taxing but we managed. Things are quickly getting back to normal. That’s why they chucked out the civilians and got their own medics in. Have you thought what you’d like for our wedding?’

  ‘Sorry, no.’ She ground her bottom lip. ‘I just couldn’t seem to get my head around it and then when I found out about the baby...’

  He cupped her face in his hands. ‘Surely you didn’t think I’d do a runner?’

  ‘I hoped not...’ She took a deep breath. ‘Prayed not. But you were adamant about not wanting fatherhood again.’

  His gaze deepened and darkened. ‘I was still angry back then. And I hadn’t realised I’d just met the love of my life.’ He shook his head as if it still amazed him. ‘Could we pull a wedding together pretty soon?’

  Lindsey looked into his eyes, seeing the sheen of tenderness. ‘I think we could. But we’ll need a licence.’

  He tapped his breast pocket. ‘I already have one. Picked it up in Sydney this morning. It’s amazing how fast you can get things done when you’re in uniform.’

  ‘Oh, Dan,’ Lindsey chided. ‘Did you let them think you’d been posted?’

  He shrugged. ‘I suppose I might have given that impression. I just looked a bit helpless and they fell over themselves cutting red tape.’

  Lindsey fisted him on the chest. ‘You couldn’t look helpless if you tried. But back to the wedding. Where? Any preference?’

  ‘Lark Hill? That’s if it’s all right with your folks. Something intimate and all about us. What do you think?’

  ‘That sounds perfect. There’s a wonderful spot amongst the vines where we can make our vows. Reception up at the house. We don’t want a crowd, do we?’

  He shook his head. ‘Just your lot and mine, a few mates from the ED and Nathan and Sami to stand up for us. Easy. Can you take a couple more days off?’

  ‘I guess so. What do you want to do?’

  ‘I still have a few days’ leave up my sleeve. I’d like us to fly to Melbourne tomorrow so you can meet my family. We’ll take them all to dinner and you’ll be wearing your ring.’

  ‘Oh...’ Lindsey reached out and placed her palm against his cheek. ‘Are you buying me an engagement ring, then?’

  ‘Absolutely. And we’ll get matching wedding rings as well.’ He smiled indulgently. ‘I want to do things properly.’ He added silently, this time.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A few weeks later, Saturday, a wedding at Lark Hill...

  IT WAS MID-MORNING and a clear day. A bridal path had been especially prepared between the rows of vines.

  A string quartet was playing softly.

  Surrounded by a stunning display of old-fashioned bush roses and fruiting vines, Dan was waiting with Nathan. The guests were seated in bespoke chairs. It was an informal setting but the atmosphere was laden with dignity and purpose. And so much love for the happy couple.

  Vanessa sat with Charlie. They were now officially going out. Or staying in, as Vanessa laughingly told anyone who would listen. Poppy was now living with her dad most of the time. She adored Vanessa and the feeling was mutual. Charlie leaned over and whispered, ‘Is my tie all right?’

  Vanessa gave it a quick straighten. ‘It’s fine. Why?’

  ‘I looked everywhere for it this morning, then found Poppy had been using it as a lead for her guinea pig.’

  Vanessa rolled her eyes. ‘Why didn’t you just wear another one?’

  Charlie looked blank. ‘I don’t have another one.’

  ‘Shh...the music’s changing. The bride must be on her way.’ On cue, the guests rose as one. Vanessa gripped Charlie’s arm. ‘Oh, bless...doesn’t she look gorgeous? I knew she’d wear lace. And look! Dan’s going to meet her. Oh...it’s just too romantic.’

  Daintily, Vanessa began tapping away the press of happy tears.

  Charlie, wearing a goofy grin, handed her his big red hanky.

  * * *

  The newlyweds stepped into their reception, where the atmosphere was already bubbling with laughter and music.

  ‘Dr and Mrs Rossi,’ announced Nathan, who was doubling as master of ceremonies.

  ‘I like the sound of that.’ Dipping his head, Dan kissed his bride gently but thoroughly for all the world to see. ‘You take my breath away, Lindsey Rossi.’ His eyes held a gleam of teasing humour. ‘I’m so glad you turned up this morning.’

  Lindsey gave a shaky laugh, her heart cartwheeling with happiness. ‘Of course I turned up,’ she countered. ‘This is our party. Our beautiful wedding day. Doesn’t everything look amazing, Dan?’

  It did.

  The lovely old home was adorned with fresh garden flowers and a sumptuous buffet lunch was set out on the long table in the dining room. There was comfortable seating everywhere. Guests could wander out to the verandas or into the garden. The back deck had been cleared and the floor sanded and polished for the dancing later.

  Lindsey directed Dan’s attention to their wedding cake, lavishly decorated with meringue buttercream icing and a trail of blue forget-me-nots. A silver-spangled bauble on
the top declared simply: Love.

  ‘This is Fiona’s gift to us.’

  Dan looked smug. ‘I knew she approved of me from the get-go.’

  They wandered out onto the deck, where so much of their courtship had taken place. Dan lifted Lindsey’s hand and kissed her fingers and the sunlight caught her new rings, causing a beautiful rainbow of sparkles to reflect all around them. ‘I love you,’ he said for the umpteenth time. ‘What about dancing with me?’

  Lindsey looked at him through a haze of happiness. ‘I think we’re supposed to wait until after the speeches and we’ve cut the cake.’

  Dan looked unimpressed. ‘It’s our wedding, we can do what we like.’ He spun her away and she sashayed back to him, draping her arms around his neck.

  His eyes lit with satisfaction. ‘Happy?’

  ‘I am.’ Lindsey smiled serenely. ‘You’re a very nice man, Dan Rossi.’

  Dan gathered her closer. His beautiful Lindsey had come to him today as his bride. He had no doubt their marriage would be good and true. He had to be the happiest man alive.

  ‘And not a bad dancer,’ he said.

  EPILOGUE

  ‘PANT THROUGH THE BREAK, LINDSEY,’ Jenna Metcalf, the midwife, coached.

  ‘I can’t...’

  ‘Yes, you can,’ Dan encouraged.

  ‘The lights are too bright,’ she whined. ‘Dan...?’

  ‘Head’s almost out,’ Jenna said. ‘One more push...’

  ‘One more push,’ Dan echoed. ‘Come on, Lins, he’s almost here.’

  Lindsey gave a long sound of effort, one that thrust her head back hard against Dan’s chest as he held her. They wanted pushing? Well, she’d give them pushing!

  ‘That’s it. You’re amazing.’ Dan kissed the top of her head. And prayed as he’d never prayed before.

  ‘Gently now. Almost there,’ Jenna called encouragingly. ‘Looking good. Head’s out. I’m delivering one shoulder. Wow.’ She laughed. ‘We have a strong little guy here. He’s very anxious to meet his mamma and daddy, aren’t you, gorgeous?’ In seconds, she held the baby up, his little body all wet and slippery.

  Dan made a noise that came from deep within his chest. Born. Their son was safely born. His eyes stung and filled as baby Rossi cried lustily and waved tiny fists.

  ‘Oh, Dan, look...’ Lindsey’s voice cracked. ‘He’s so beautiful. And perfect.’

  ‘Perfect,’ he whispered throatily. Almost in a daze he cut his son’s umbilical cord. ‘Jen, thank you.’ He felt his throat clear and he swallowed. ‘You were brilliant.’

  ‘Uh-uh.’ Jenna shook her head. ‘Your wife was the brilliant one.’ She expertly wrapped the baby and handed him to Lindsey.

  Dan moved to sit beside Lindsey, his whole heart in his eyes. ‘Put your hands beneath mine,’ she said, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. ‘And we’ll both hold him.’ She smiled mistily. ‘He looks like you.’ Gently, she unwrapped their infant son and they looked in wonder at the perfection of his tiny limbs, fingers and toes. ‘Happy?’ Lindsey looked at Dan, knowing how special this moment was for him.

  Dan nodded, too full for any words—well, any that would make much sense. He felt a surge of love and protectiveness for his beautiful Lindsey and their little boy. They were a family. They had been truly and magnificently blessed.

  Lindsey stroked the gentlest finger around the baby’s cheek, watched as his little mouth moved instinctively in a suckling motion. Tipping her head back, she smiled at Dan and their gazes locked in sweet understanding.

  Lindsey placed the softest kiss on her husband’s mouth and then bent to look again at their son. Pride and a kind of triumph filled her. ‘This is us,’ she said.

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Leah Martyn

  WEDDING AT SUNDAY CREEK

  REDEEMING DR RICCARDI

  DAREDEVIL AND DR KATE

  WEDDING IN DARLING DOWNS

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from FALLING FOR HER WOUNDED HERO by Marion Lennox.

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  Falling for Her Wounded Hero

  by Marion Lennox

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE SURF OUTSIDE his surgery window was calling like a siren’s song. Sunlit waves were rolling in with perfect symmetry. Dr Tom Blake had been watching them between patients, crossing his fingers that his list for the afternoon stayed short.

  It did. Cray Point was a small town tucked away on a peninsula on Australia’s south-east coast, and almost without exception its residents loved the ocean. On a day like this, only the most urgent medical problems replaced the call of the surf.

  Which meant Tom could surf, too.

  ‘That’s it,’ he called to his receptionist as he closed his last patient file. ‘We’re out of here.’

  ‘One more,’ Rhonda called back. ‘A last-minute booking. Mrs Tasha Raymond’s here to see you.’

  Tasha Raymond.

  A tourist? Something easy, he hoped, and headed out to usher her in.

  And stopped.

  The woman was sitting at the far side of his waiting room. She was close to thirty, he thought, and very pregnant. She had the exhausted and shadowed look he sometimes saw when pregnant women had too much to cope with—toddlers at home, too many work commitments, or a deep unhappiness at the pregnancy itself.

  She was small, five four or five, and fair skinned, with brown curls caught into an unruly knot. She was wearing maternity jeans and an enormous windcheater. The shadows under her eyes suggested she hadn’t slept for days.

  And he knew her. Tasha Raymond? He’d met her as Tasha Blake.

  ‘Tasha,’ he said, and she managed a smile and struggled to rise.

  ‘Tom. I didn’t think you’d recognise me.’

  Fair point. Tasha was his half-brother’s widow but he’d only met her once, at Paul’s funeral four years ago.

  He’d attended because he’d thought he should, not because he’d thought he was wanted. His stepmother had made it clear she’d prefer it if he stayed away. He’d gone, though, and had stayed in the background, and then one of Paul’s climbing mates who knew the family background had decided to intervene and introduce him.

  ‘Tom, I doubt if you’ve met Tasha. Did you know Tasha and Paul were married?’

  The news that Paul had died trying to scale Everest had come as no huge surprise. Paul had spent his life moving from one adventure to another, taking bigger and bigger risks along the way. The knowledge that he’d found time to marry had been a bigger shock.

  But the slight f
igure surrounded by Paul’s climbing friends had seemed almost a ghost. He’d told her how sorry he was, but he’d only had time for few perfunctory words.

  For of course his stepmother had moved in. Afterwards he’d never been able to figure if her contempt was only for him, or if it had included Tasha. Tasha had been a pale figure huddled into someone else’s greatcoat to protect her from the icy winds at the graveside—and maybe also from her mother-in-law?

  There’d seemed little point in pursuing the acquaintance, though. And after giving his condolences he’d left.

  Four years ago.

  Why was her face etched on his memory? Why was recognition so instant?

  The notes in his hand said she was Tasha Raymond. She was obviously pregnant. Had she remarried? Four years was time to have moved on.

  Rhonda was looking from Tom to Tasha with bright interest. Rhonda was the world’s worst gossip—well, maybe apart from her twin sister. Tom employed them both. Rhonda was his receptionist and Hilda was his housekeeper. The widowed, middle-aged sisters were excellent at their jobs but to say they were nosy was an understatement.

  ‘I can manage from here, Rhonda,’ he told her, smiling at Tasha with what he hoped was a brisk, professional nod. ‘You can go.’

  ‘Oh, but Mrs Raymond—’

  ‘Mrs Raymond is my late half-brother’s widow,’ he told her. He might as well. Rhonda would have asked Tasha to fill in a patient form and she’d have probably figured her history before he had. ‘I imagine she’s here on family business. There’s no need for you to stay.’

  * * *

  Rhonda reluctantly gathered her belongings and departed.

  Tasha was left with Tom. She felt ill.

  What was she doing here?

  She knew what she was doing here. She was here because she was desperate. She had to have help.

  I can manage alone. It had been her mantra when her parents had been killed by a roadside bomb in Afghanistan when she’d been in her teens. It had held her up when Paul had died on Everest.

  Two days ago it had crumbled.

  Paul had been big-boned and muscular, his tall frame made larger by pushing himself to the limits of endurance in every possible physical endeavour.