by Anne Fraser
Feeling light-headed, he sucked in a breath of air.
“Because I love you, Adam. And, despite there being risks and us having had recent problems, there’s nobody else’s baby I want. Just yours.”
Her words cut into his chest, pierced his heart.
“No matter what your future holds, good health or not, I love you,” she whispered. “You, you, and only you. It’s the man you are inside who I love. The person who makes me whole.”
Adam lifted her hand to his mouth, kissed her fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you, Liz. Not ever.”
“I know that.”
Looking into her eyes, he saw the forgiveness, the reality that she did know that he’d never meant to cause her pain.
“I don’t want to burden you.” He squeezed her hand, willing her to understand what he was saying. “If a time comes in the future when you need to leave, I’ll understand.”
She shook her head at him. “Haven’t you learned anything these past few weeks? Being without you is what hurts me, Adam.” She reached across the coffee-table he’d wedged next to the sofa so they could play their game and tangled her fingers in the fabric of his T-shirt, tugging him toward her. Pushing the game board aside, he slid toward her, stopping only when their faces were millimeters apart. “For the record, I won’t understand if you leave me. I didn’t understand a month ago, and I won’t understand at any point in the future.”
“I’m sorry, Liz.” If he told her a million times how sorry he was it wouldn’t be enough to erase what he’d done to her.
“We’re putting that behind us, Adam. It’s in the past.” She let go of his shirt, smoothed the fabric, and cupped his face. “It’s the future that’s important. Our future.”
Her meaning rang clear and his heart almost burst with his emotions for Liz. No matter what, as long as they were together the future would work itself out. They could face any tribulation. Together.
“I don’t deserve you, Liz, but I thank God I have you. I love you.” He kissed her, holding her close, knowing that he’d hold onto Liz with all his heart for the rest of his life.
“I’ll never leave you. Not so long as you’ll have me.”
She smiled brightly, pressing her lips to his. “Good. Then you’re going to be mine for ever.”
“Tell me again,” he said, moments later, wondering exactly how he’d gotten across the coffee-table and tangled up with Liz on the love seat. Adam slid his hand beneath the waist band of her shorts, rested it against the gentle bump.
Liz’s lips curved into a smile. “I’m having your baby.”
Adam let out a joyous whoop that had Liz first rolling her eyes, then sniffling, all the while battling laughter.
He looked into her eyes, saw Liz’s love for him shining brightly and realized he understood how she felt. He would want to stay by her side no matter what, for richer, for poorer, for good health or bad, for always.
EPILOGUE
SWEAT beaded on Liz’s forehead. Never in her life had she felt such intense pain. Not even following her car crash.
Lord, if this baby didn’t get here soon she was going to split in half.
“You’re doing great, honey,” Adam encouraged from beside her, trying to force-feed her another ice chip. Adam’s MS had gone into remission and he’d been symptom-free for months now. They both knew that could change in the blink of an eye, but they kept their hearts focused on what mattered most. Each other.
“Just a little while longer and our daughter will be here.”
They’d been arguing for weeks on the sex of the baby. Adam saying they were going to have a daughter, Liz insisting the baby was a boy. Neither had found out during her ultrasounds and had asked the radiologist to edit any clips that revealed the sex as they truly didn’t want to know until delivery.
“Luther Jacob Cline—” named after Gramps “—will be very upset when he learns his father kept insisting he was a girl. Poor kid might develop a complex.”
“I’m telling you Elizabeth Ann—” named after Liz, as well as Adam’s mother “—is who’s arriving today.”
Another contraction hit Liz, tightening her stomach into a hard knot. “Whoever is in here, I wish they’d hurry.”
An hour later, Liz gave birth to a round-faced little boy. She’d never seen Adam look happier, more proud, more loving, and she knew he’d keep the vows they’d made to one another the very week Dr Bell had OK’d her to put weight on her ankle to hobble down the aisle sans crutches.
No matter what their future held, she and Adam would face it together.
“He’s gorgeous, Liz. The most precious baby,” Adam cooed, cuddling their son in his arms from where he sat next to her on the hospital bed.
Liz glanced into her son’s face, watched him attempt to suck on his fist. “Our baby. If only Gramps were here…”
Adam took her hand, lifted it to his lips, and placed a kiss. “He’s watching from heaven, Liz. You know he is and that he’s proud of you.”
Yes, she did know that and from somewhere above she’d swear she heard Gramps say, “Good job, Liza girl. Good job.”
Children’s Doctor, Society Bride
Joanna Neil
James lowered his hands and moved closer to her, so that she was disturbingly aware of his long, lean body, and the way that he moved, with a suppleness that spoke of lithe energy and keen vitality.
‘There’s nothing to stop me from coming and working here, is there—for a few months at any rate?’
He said it in such a casual manner that it took a moment or two for it to sink in. Louise stared at him. ‘I’m not sure that I heard that right. Did I just hear you offer to come and work in my department?’
‘Are you afraid to accept my offer?’ Again, there was that faint hint of amusement that played around his mouth. It was unsettling, as though he could read her like a book, whereas Louise would be hard put to it to say what it was that was bothering her.
How would she cope with having him in close proximity on a regular basis? He exuded masculinity without even trying, and just knowing that he was around seemed to throw her nervous system into chaos…
When Joanna Neil discovered Mills & Boon®, her life-long addiction to reading crystallised into an exciting new career writing Medical™ Romance. Her characters are probably the outcome of her varied lifestyle, which includes working as a clerk, typist, nurse and infant teacher. She enjoys dressmaking and cooking at her Leicestershire home. Her family includes a husband, son and daughter, an exuberant yellow Labrador and two slightly crazed cockatiels. She currently works with a team of tutors at her local education centre to provide creative writing workshops for people interested in exploring their own writing ambitions.
CHAPTER ONE
‘JUST try to take a drop more for me, cherub.’ Louise gently brushed the teat of the bottle against the baby’s lips and smiled as he began to suckle once more. ‘That’s the way…that’s good,’ she murmured softly. ‘You need to build up your strength, little one.’ Smiling, she leaned back in her chair, nestling the baby in her arms, rocking gently to and fro.
‘He’s doing well, isn’t he, considering that he’s recovering from emergency heart surgery?’ Alice, the specialist nurse, came to peer down at her precious bundle.
‘He is.’ Louise nodded agreement, and then looked up at Alice with a wry smile. ‘I suppose you’ve come to take him away from me, have you?’
‘I have, I’m afraid.’ Her dark hair made a silky swathe as she nodded. ‘His mother’s talking to the surgeon, and I want to have all my observations recorded before she comes back. The doctor’s bound to want to take another look at him, and I need to make sure that he’s ready.’
Louise gave a soft sigh. ‘Ah, well, he’s finished off all of his milk, so I guess I have no excuse for keeping him to myself any longer.’
She winded the baby, lightly rubbing his back until he gave a soft burp, and then she reluctantly handed the infant over to Alice’s care. Getting
to her feet, she flicked back her shoulder-length auburn hair with a deft twist of her fingers.
‘Thanks for letting me steal him for a few minutes. I can’t resist coming over here to the paediatric ward whenever I have a few minutes to spare. It was lovely to be able to sit here and relax for a while. It’s been so hectic in the children’s A&E this morning that I was glad of a chance to come and wind down for a bit.’
‘I can imagine. Are you on call for the whole day?’ Alice slid a thermometer into the baby’s armpit and checked the monitor before noting down his pulse rate on to the chart.
Louise shook her head. ‘It was just for this morning. I’m off to grab myself some lunch now, and then I have to conduct interviews this afternoon. We’re looking for another Senior House Officer to take on some of the workload—though how that will pan out with all the hoo-ha that’s been going on of late, I’m not entirely sure.’
Alice’s grey eyes took on a sombre look. ‘I can’t believe that they’ll go ahead with it. How can they even think of closing the unit down? What are people going to do if their children become desperately ill all at once or get knocked over by a car? The A&E at the Royal Forest Hospital is almost forty miles away for some people in the outlying areas. And if they close down the children’s A&E, the adult A&E here will go too. I can’t believe that they’ve thought it through properly.’
‘Neither can I. It makes me so angry when I think about it. We’ve been so fortunate in having a separate children’s emergency unit here—in some places they are still combined with the adult unit. It’s essential to have a department dedicated to children’s A&E, with specialist staff, and yet now they plan to destroy everything.’ Louise straightened up, her jaw setting in a tight angle. ‘See, I’m getting fractious all over again. I shall have to go and eat lunch in the park just to calm myself down.’
‘Have some for me. A crisp salad in a crusty bread roll, along with an ice-cold bottle of fruit juice would do just nicely.’ Alice smiled before turning back to her small patient. Making a swift check of his nappy, she wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh, we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we, pumpkin?’
‘See you later, Alice.’ Louise went in search of the lifts. The sooner she was out in the warm, fresh air of the park, surrounded by the green shade of trees and shrubs, the better.
How could they even think of taking her A&E unit from her? After all the work that had gone into building it up and making it the smooth running enterprise that it was today, it was nothing short of criminal to contemplate pulling the plug. What would happen to children who were grievously injured, or who were suffering from the onset of septicaemia if they had an hour-long journey ahead of them before they reached the skilled team workers in the A&E department at the Royal Forest Hospital?
She was still aggrieved when she reached the relative sanctuary of the local park. At least there, though, she could take solace in watching the gently flowing waters of the river as it meandered along the valley carved out through meadowland over the centuries. Broad trees that had stood the test of time spread their branches heavenward, and she looked up at the blue of the sky and basked for a moment in the gentle heat of the summer sun. This was just a small part of the beautiful Wye Valley, and she was eternally pleased that she had decided to make her home here.
Glancing around, she searched for a table where she might sit and eat her sandwiches. Not too far away, children were joyfully kicking a ball over the neatly cut grass and, closer to the water’s edge, a young couple sat and followed the progress of swans as they glided gracefully beneath the arch of a stone bridge.
A little further in the distance, an elderly man was making his way slowly towards a large oak tree. A bench seat surrounded the massive trunk, and Louise guessed that the man was heading there with the bench in mind.
He was smartly dressed, wearing a suit and waistcoat, but as she looked closer it occurred to her that he didn’t look at all well. He was coughing, she noticed, and his breath was coming in short bursts. As she drew closer to him, she could see that his lips were faintly blue.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked in a tentative voice, her green eyes troubled as she approached him. He must be in his eighties, and because of his frailty she was immediately worried about him. What on earth was he doing out here on his own? Surely someone ought to be looking out for him?
‘I’m just a bit short of breath,’ he managed. ‘I’ll be fine in a minute.’
‘Were you trying to get over to the seat?’ she asked, and he nodded. ‘Perhaps I could help you, then?’ she suggested, and when he acquiesced she lent a supporting arm so that he could lean on her.
Slowly, they covered the short distance to the bench and she steadied him as he lowered himself down onto the seat.
‘Thank you,’ he said, gasping for air as he finally leaned back against the trunk of the tree.
Louise sat down beside him. ‘Just rest there for a while,’ she said. ‘You looked as though you were about to stumble. Were you feeling dizzy?’
He nodded, clearly unable to answer her right then. Sitting this close to him, she could hear the wheezing in his chest, and she frowned.
‘Are you on any kind of medication?’ she wondered. ‘It’s just that I’m a doctor and I can see that you’re very pale, and it’s clear that you were finding it difficult to go on.’
He put a shaky hand to his chest, patting his ribcage. ‘The ticker’s not all it used to be.’ He began to fumble in his pockets, but Louise realised that he was struggling and intervened.
‘Do you have some tablets that you need to take? Perhaps I could help you to find them?’
He made a weary inclination of his head. ‘In my pocket,’ he said.
‘This one?’ Louise carefully slid her hand into his jacket where he indicated, and drew out a small plastic bottle. She read the label. ‘These are to slow your heart rate and lower your blood pressure,’ she murmured. ‘Would it be best for you to take one of these tablets now? I have a bottle of water on me.’
‘Yes, thanks.’ There was a hint of relief in his voice.
She opened the container and tipped a tablet into his palm, and then she unscrewed the lid off her water bottle and held it out to him. ‘I’m sorry I don’t have a cup,’ she said. ‘Will you manage?’
Again he tilted his head in acknowledgement, but she could see that he was still shaky, and so she helped him with the bottle and watched as he sipped some of the liquid, swallowing the tablet down.
‘It will take awhile for the medicine towork,’ Louise murmured. ‘You should just sit and rest for a while. You don’t need to talk if it’s difficult for you. Just take your time.’
She sat with him and he closed his eyes for a while. Later, when he appeared to have recovered a little, she said quietly, ‘Is there anyone I can call who could come and take you home?’
‘I was with my grandson,’ he said, sucking in a ragged breath, his voice a little cracked with strain. ‘We were having a cup of tea together in town, but he had to go off and make some phone calls.’
‘And he didn’t come back?’
He shook his head. ‘I expect it was something important.’
Louise frowned. ‘So…let me see if I have this right… You were with your grandson, but he left you on your own so that he could go and call someone?’
‘No, they called him.’
‘Oh, I see.’ She didn’t, not really, but at least the old gentleman seemed to be breathing a little more easily now, and Louise was pleased about that. Even so, he definitely wasn’t well enough to be left on his own, and it was annoying to think that his own grandson could abandon him so casually.
‘Do you have your grandson’s number—presumably he has a mobile phone with him? I could give him a ring and ask him to come and fetch you.’ She was already reaching for her phone.
‘Um…yes, I think so.’ Hesitantly, he supplied the number, and it occurred to Louise that he might be getting on in years, but his mi
nd was still keen enough if he could recall the digits. ‘His name is James,’ he added.
‘Okay.’ Louise started to dial the number. She felt like giving James a piece of her mind for leaving his grandfather. What kind of person would go off without a care in the world and leave his grandfather to fend for himself?
The engaged tone started to bleep, and Louise felt her irritation begin to rise. She stabbed the button on her phone with her finger, shutting off the noise. What was the matter with the man? Was he so busy calling all and sundry that he had lost sight of everything else?
She tried not to let her annoyance show. ‘He’s talking on the phone,’ she told the old man. ‘I’ll try him again in a minute or two.’ She looked at him carefully. ‘You seem to have a little more colour in your cheeks now,’ she said. ‘Are you feeling a bit better?’
‘Yes, I am, thanks.’ There was still an underlying rasp to his voice, and she guessed that his chest was badly congested. If he had been one of her patients, she would have asked to check out his lungs and his heart, and she would have taken a look at his ankles to see if there was any swelling there.
‘Are you having regular check-ups at the hospital or with your GP?’ she asked. ‘Perhaps you ought to go and see someone fairly soon.’
He reached out and patted her hand. ‘You’re very kind,’ he said, giving her a smile, ‘but I’m getting on a bit these days, and there’s probably not too much that anyone can do for me.’
‘You won’t know unless you ask.’ She felt an immediate empathy towards this old gentleman. Now that he was feeling a little better, she could see that there was a faint twinkle in his eyes, and she guessed that he had been a lively soul in years gone by.
‘I’ll try your grandson again,’ she said, deftly thumbing in the numbers once more.
