Twins for a Christmas Bride

by Josie Metcalfe

  ‘You mean, something’s happened to Sara?’ Frank demanded. ‘But I thought … I’m confused. Did Zara ask you to come and tell us? Why didn’t she come herself, or is she staying with Sara?’

  ‘Is it something to do with the baby?’ his wife demanded sharply. ‘Zara will be so disappointed if anything’s wrong with …’

  Between the two of them he was having a hard time getting a word in edgeways. It looked as if he was going to have to abandon any idea of breaking things to them gently.

  ‘Sara was knocked down by a car this evening as she was walking home from work,’ he announced bluntly. Too bluntly? he wondered when it looked as if the pair had stopped breathing.

  ‘No!’ He should have known that their mother would recover the power of speech first. ‘Oh, Danny … how? Oh, tell me she hasn’t lost Zara’s precious baby.’

  ‘She was knocked unconscious, her leg was broken and she’s badly bruised, but she had a scan to see if she had any internal injuries—’

  ‘She didn’t have any X-rays, did she?’ Audrey demanded sharply. ‘I don’t want my first grandchild being born deformed because it had X-rays.’

  Not a word of concern about the injuries Sara had suffered, Dan noted, even as he had to stifle a smile when he remembered Sean O’Malley telling him just how fiercely Sara had objected to having X-rays. He could just imagine that she’d been the very picture of a lioness defending her cub.

  ‘Actually,’ he said, sidestepping the issue of X-rays entirely to focus on the news that still sent his spirits soaring, in spite of all the trauma of the last few hours, ‘the scan showed us something we weren’t expecting to see—that Sara’s carrying twins.’

  The momentary silence had a completely different feel this time, but even as they began exclaiming in delight he despised himself for his cowardice. He should be telling them about the much more urgent situation confronting their younger daughter.

  His reprieve was all too brief.

  ‘What did Zara say when you told her?’ his father-in-law demanded with a beam. ‘I bet she was delighted.’

  ‘Well, I was very late getting home, after making sure that Sara and the babies were going to be all right,’ he began, even as a voice inside his head jeered at him for trying to assuage his guilt for arriving home so much later than he’d intended. The outcome would have been very different. ‘I thought she was asleep, but when I went to tell her the news, I couldn’t wake her and had to call an ambulance to take her to hospital.’

  ‘Hospital?’ his mother-in law shrieked in disbelief. ‘Zara’s in hospital, too? Why? What’s the matter with her?’ She began to struggle to her feet, slapping viciously at her husband’s hand when he tried to stop her. ‘I’ve got to go to her straight away. You’ll have to take me,’ she declared with a glare at Dan.

  ‘Why wouldn’t she wake up? What’s the matter with her? Do you know?’ Frank demanded, clearly dumbfounded by the news.

  ‘It looks as if she’s taken an overdose of drugs … barbiturates,’ he said, and was nearly deafened by the howl of denial.

  ‘Drugs! That’s a lie! My Zara wouldn’t touch the filthy things.’ Audrey was sobbing with rage now. ‘Why would you say such a dreadful thing about your own wife? You should know she’s the most beautiful, most perfect—’

  He ignored the start of the familiar litany, interrupting bluntly. ‘The bottle was found beside her, and some of the drugs were found still in her stomach when we got her to the hospital and pumped her out.’

  ‘But—’ Frank began, but as ever his wife’s voice overrode his tentative attempt.

  ‘Then you got them all out and she’s going to be all right?’ she demanded shrilly, in spite of the fact that her certainty about her daughter’s convictions had been summarily destroyed. ‘Did she tell you why she took them? It must have been a mistake … a … a …’

  ‘They pumped out as many as they could, but she’d already absorbed enough to send her …’ At the last moment he paused, wondering if the mention of the word ‘coma’ would be the final straw. Instantly, he knew that his mother-in-law would definitely have hysterics if he so much as mentioned the possibility, and sidestepped the prospect by choosing a less emotive word.

  ‘Zara’s deeply unconscious, so she’s been taken into Intensive Care where she’ll be monitored constantly until the drugs wear off and she wakes up.’

  He hoped they were too shocked to notice the guilt he was trying to hide, but no way was he mentioning the very real chance that the drugs might have already caused significant damage. He knew that, as her parents, they had a right to information about their daughter, but he was hoping that he wouldn’t have to be the one to tell them. It was bad enough that he knew that Zara might never wake up again, at least not in any meaningful way.

  It might be cowardly, but he was intending to leave it to the consultant to tell them that, even when the effect of the drugs she’d taken did wear off, the daughter that the two of them idolised might already be lost to them for ever.

  Sara was a different matter. There was no way he could have left her to find out what her sister had done, not after the shock her system had already sustained this evening.

  He stifled a weary sigh as he assisted his sobbing mother-in-law into his car, knowing that there would be very little chance that he would be seeing his bed tonight.

  Hoping that his silence could be taken as the result of navigating the busy streets, he tried to get his thoughts in order.

  He would definitely have to contact Human Resources as soon as possible to notify them that he wouldn’t be in for his shift the next day … or for the foreseeable future, at least until the drugs had left Zara’s system and he had some idea what sort of prognosis they were looking at.

  He would also have to see if there was a relatives’ room free for the Walkers to use. He couldn’t imagine that anyone would be able to persuade Audrey and Frank to leave the hospital until their daughter was out of danger, but they might be persuaded to rest in between the short visits they would be permitted by her side.

  Then there was Sara.

  Bruised, bloodied and broken her body might be, but her spirit appeared even stronger than ever if the way she’d confronted him was any gauge.

  He found himself stifling a grin when he remembered the way she’d turned on him like a spitting cat. It was the closest she’d ever come to telling him exactly what she thought of him, although he had a pretty good idea.

  He’d barely admitted to himself how much of his time had been spent thinking about her, even in those first few weeks. Then he’d been stupid enough to allow himself to be snowballed into marriage with her sister, committing the oldest blunder in the book when he’d allowed his hormones to overrule his heart.

  Then, when he and Zara had been unable to conceive, he’d been amazed and delighted when his in-laws had told him that Sara had volunteered to act as a surrogate mother for them.

  How stupid could he have been? He should have known that her parents’ desire to give Zara everything she ever wanted would have made them resort to any means to persuade her soft-hearted sister to agree.

  No wonder she had so little time for him, even when he was concerned about her welfare. No wonder she’d been convinced that his only interest was that his child had been unharmed.

  Children, he reminded himself with a surge of mingled joy and terror.

  He’d been amazed and delighted to see not one but two hearts beating strongly on the ultrasound screen, evidence that they were both still snugly ensconced in their rightful environment and supremely unaware of their narrow escape. One side of him was ecstatic to see the evidence that his precious children weren’t just a dream but a miraculous reality. It was the other side—the doctor side of him—that knew enough to be afraid; the doctor half of his brain that knew just how much more dangerous the existence of that second baby was, both to the pregnancy and to Sara herself.

  Bearing a child was already one of the most dangerous
things a woman could put herself through, and to carry twins …

  He shook his head when he realised that he was already planning a session on the computer to access all the relevant statistics, irrespective of the fact that knowing the figures would worry him even more.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Audrey demanded in a panicky voice as she entered the relatives’ room at exactly the wrong moment. ‘Why did you shake your head? Did the doctor say something to you while we were in with Zara? She’s not going to …? Oh, no! Please! She can’t die. Not my beautiful girl!’

  Dan swore silently as her voice rose shrilly with every word, his head thumping unmercifully.

  ‘No one’s told me anything,’ he said firmly as he took her by the shoulders and leant down to force her to meet his gaze. ‘Audrey, the only time I’ve spoken to Zara’s consultant was when you were with me. The situation hasn’t changed. We’ve just got to wait and see how her body copes with whatever it is she’s taken. We’ve just got to be patient.’

  ‘How can I be patient?’ she demanded angrily, shrugging his hands off and whirling away. ‘I’m her mother! You have no idea how dreadful it is not being able to do anything. Just waiting …’

  ‘You could visit Sara,’ he suggested. ‘She must be wondering what’s happening down here, worrying about—’

  ‘If she were that worried she’d be here with us,’ Audrey interrupted sharply. ‘I can’t believe how selfish that girl is, to be lying in bed when she should be down here with her sister … with us …’

  ‘Sara’s in no fit state to go anywhere,’ Dan snapped, rapidly reaching the end of his tether. It was unbelievable that parents could be so concerned about one of their daughters and so dismissive of the other. They seemed to care so little for Sara and were so unappreciative of her and everything she’d achieved that it bordered on emotional abuse.

  It certainly wasn’t something that he would ever do to his children. His heart missed a beat when he visualised the flickering evidence of those two tiny beings that would one day look up to him and call him Daddy. It was an awesome responsibility and he would make certain that they both knew that their father loved each of them as much as the other.

  ‘Mum? Dad?’ said a hesitant voice from the doorway, and Dan spun on his heel, his eyes widening with disbelief when he saw the shaky figure sitting in the wheelchair.

  The bruises on her face looked livid and angry already, especially against the stark white of the dressing covering her stitches. He could only guess how many other injuries were hidden under the back-to-front gown she wore as a wrap, but nothing could hide the ungainly cast stabilising her broken leg.

  ‘Sara!’ He strode towards her when he saw her struggling one-handed to propel herself further into the room, her face so pale it seemed almost bloodless. He didn’t know whether to be angry with her for being crazy enough to make the journey when every inch of the distance between her room and ICU must have been agony for her, or proud that her determination was enough to bring her here in case her parents needed her support.

  All he knew was that he was suddenly filled with an overwhelming need to protect this valiant woman from anything that might cause her any more pain.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  DAN was still seething when he finally took half an hour to race home for a shower and a change of clothes.

  ‘Those parents of hers are unbelievable!’ he growled as he leaned wearily against his front door, almost too tired to make his way to the bathroom.

  He was sure his mouth must have gaped when there hadn’t been any evidence of sympathy at the shocking extent of Sara’s injuries, not a single word of concern that she must have escaped death by the merest whisker, to say nothing of the possible loss of their grandchild … grand-children, he corrected himself and felt that crazy grin creep over his face again, banishing his bad mood at a stroke.

  He reached for his wallet and extracted the precious image printed from Sara’s first scan and awe joined his feeling of delight. Not one but two tiny beings were still growing safely inside her womb, in spite of their close brush with death. He could still feel that first surge of emotion when he’d seen the image of their minuscule hearts, the beats so rapid that they’d almost seemed to flicker on the screen.

  ‘My babies,’ he whispered as he outlined their precious images with a visibly trembling fingertip and was shocked to feel the hot press of tears behind his eyes.

  This … these … were the one good thing that had happened in such a very long time. These two tiny beings made everything worthwhile.

  Even the knowledge that your wife is lying dangerously ill in ICU? asked a disapproving voice inside his head. That brought him up short for a moment and guilt struck him hard that he was feeling such delight while Zara’s health—her very life—hung in the balance.

  His shoulders slumped still further when he realised that even though her situation was serious, with no guarantee for a happy outcome, he found it strangely hard to care any more than he would if Zara were just another patient brought into A and E in the course of his working day.

  ‘That certainly took the smile off your face,’ he muttered as he strode across the lounge towards the bathroom with the weight of a very long day pressing down on his shoulders again. At the last moment he veered towards the mantelpiece to prop the precious image in full view, torn between the desire to replace it in his wallet to keep it close to him and the equally strong need to keep it safe.

  His first step inside the bedroom was like a punch to the gut. He and Zara were both reasonably tidy people so it was a real shock to be confronted with the shambles that remained from his efforts to keep her body functioning until the paramedics arrived.

  The bedclothes straggling onto the floor were mute testimony to the way he’d hastily pulled her down onto the firmer surface, and there certainly hadn’t been time to straighten anything up before he’d leapt in his car to follow the ambulance to the hospital.

  He stepped forward and reached out to gather up the bedding then let it fall again, unable to find the energy to care that the bed needed making or, more to the point, the inclination to sleep in it at all when he thought about what had so nearly happened there.

  He needed sleep. In fact, if he was honest with himself, he was nearly out on his feet with exhaustion, both with the stresses of a long hard shift and then the double shocks of first Sara’s and then Zara’s admission to hospital. Even so, he couldn’t face the thought of climbing into that bed, not when he didn’t know whether its last occupant was going to survive.

  He nearly fell asleep standing under the shower, the fierce pummelling of the water jets on the back of his neck and across his shoulders almost as blissful as a massage.

  Not that he’d had the time or inclination for massages recently. In fact, not since the last time Sara had taken pity on him in the very early days of their fledgling relationship.

  ‘Don’t go there!’ he groaned aloud, but that did nothing to stop the images playing through his head.

  It had been a rough shift, not unlike the last twelve hours, and he’d made the mistake of sitting down at the table in the staffroom rather than going straight home. The next thing he’d known had been Sara’s voice in his ear, calling his name and waking him to the realisation that he could barely move his neck for the crick in it.

  ‘Can I see if I can get rid of that stiffness for you?’ she’d offered, and for a moment he hadn’t been certain which stiffness she’d been talking about. Waking up with her soft voice and the warmth of her breath in his ear had matched perfectly with the dream he’d been having, and both had had a predictable effect on his body.

  Her fingers on his neck and shoulders, alternately stroking then firmly kneading only helped his neck and shoulders. His other reaction he’d had to keep to himself until he’d returned to his bachelor digs with images of persuading Sara to join him there as soon as possible playing in his head.

  Had there been a hormonal overload in his system
at the time, because it had been just days later that he’d met Zara and been completely bowled over by her blatant interest in him … so different to Sara’s more reserved manner and so flattering to the male ego.

  The steam followed him out of the shower as he padded through to the wardrobe with nothing more than a towel wrapped around the back of his neck.

  He was operating on auto pilot now, knowing that he needed clean clothes and to put something in his stomach and knowing that his duty was to support his in-laws while they waited impatiently for the scant five minutes in each hour that they were allowed to spend at their daughter’s bedside. It was so wearing to sit with them knowing that they were pinning their hopes on finding a dramatic improvement each time they went in.

  He was already running on his reserves and knew he needed to sleep, and sleep soon, but somehow … somehow he couldn’t think about sleeping while Zara’s condition was unresolved and especially while Sara was valiantly sitting with her parents, waiting for better news. She had worked just the same killer hours as he had and had then suffered the trauma of being run over.

  The clean shirt made him feel a bit less ragged and he was just reaching for some bread to toast to fill the gaping hole where his stomach should be when his pager shrilled.

  ‘Daniel Lomax,’ he said, his heart in his mouth by the time the phone was answered in ICU and he was switched through to the consultant’s office. He wasn’t on duty but had told the ICU staff he was taking his pager home with him if they needed to contact him.

  ‘Daniel, I thought you’d like to know that we’ve had another set of results back from the lab and—’

  ‘I’m on my way, sir,’ Dan interrupted, when he heard the strange note in the consultant’s voice. Suddenly he knew that something was wrong, and a surge of adrenaline instantly banished his exhaustion. ‘I’ll be there in about eight minutes,’ he promised, already halfway out of the door as he ended the conversation.