Medical Duo - Dr Chandler's Sleeping Beauty & Christmas with Dr Delicious

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  ‘Are …?’ She swallowed, tried again. ‘Are you all right?’ Dumb, dumb question. As if. He’s got cancer, idiot. Of course he’s not all right. He could be dying. Never in a million years had she imagined anything so dreadful, so terrifying. Deep shudders racked her. Nausea rose, soured her mouth. Fraser? Cancer? Oh, no. It couldn’t be true. It mustn’t be.

  ‘I’m fine now.’

  ‘What?’ She blinked at him. How could he sound so calm? Didn’t he understand how serious cancer was?

  She told herself to get a grip. If anyone in this room knew the answer to that it was Fraser. He’d been there.

  He straddled the chair opposite, propping his hands on its back. ‘I had cancer. It’s gone. The all-clear came through last month.’

  Relief poured through her. She slumped farther down her chair. Fraser was fine. Not sick, not dying. He was as healthy as he looked. Phew. Her shaky hand brushed over her banging heart. It was all right. Fraser was going to make it. She lifted her gaze to his face. Saw again the new lines around his mouth, the seriousness in his eyes. Now she understood the change in his hair. ‘You had chemo.’ When hair grew back after that treatment it could be a different colour and sometimes it turned curly.

  ‘And radiation,’ he told her.

  Hang on. ‘It takes five years for an all-clear.’ She couldn’t focus on one thing at a time as she struggled to take it all in.

  Sadness filled his eyes, turned his mouth down. ‘Yes, it does.’

  ‘So, around our wedding date?’

  He understood her question. ‘Three weeks before.’

  ‘Three weeks?’ The air hissed out of her lungs. The old, familiar pain of humiliation slammed into her. How could he not have wanted her there with him? Not wanted to share his pain with her? ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she whispered.

  ‘I mucked up. Big time. But you have to believe me when I say I thought I was doing the right thing. For you. For us.’ Fraser shoved off the chair, strode to the window to stare out into the night. ‘It was incredibly difficult. I had testicular cancer. I struggled to deal with it myself, let alone tell anyone else. Especially you.’

  Her eyes squeezed shut. A new pain clutched at her. Pain for Fraser. Any cancer was bad, but for some reason this seemed worse. She couldn’t explain it but knew it was all tied up with his virility, his very essence. He’d been a sexual man, enjoyed making love. What man didn’t? But this had happened to Fraser, her Fraser.

  ‘Why especially me?’

  He reached for the wine bottle. ‘Got a glass?’

  She found two, put them on the table and returned to her seat, still trying to get her head around this nightmare.

  Fraser filled both glasses, pushed one towards her. ‘I was afraid that you’d leave me, that you’d find excuses because I was no longer the man you’d loved. Often I tried to ring you but every time I picked up the phone and dialled I’d hear you in my mind telling me you wanted no part of it so I’d hang up before you answered.’

  The wine was cool and beautiful on her tongue. Swallowing, she pushed the glass aside. It was out of place at the moment. ‘So you got in first and left me.’ She squeezed her eyes tight. He hadn’t had a lot of trust in her love, then.

  ‘Nikki,’ he called softly. ‘It wasn’t like that. Believe me.’

  Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked at him. Really looked, looking for the man he’d become, not the man she’d thought she still knew. And her heart broke again. For them both. So much had happened, things they should’ve shared and hadn’t. Of course her depression didn’t compare to his, and it probably wouldn’t have happened if she’d known the truth behind him leaving her. Fraser should have told her, no matter how hard it would have been.

  ‘You went away without a word. That short phone call was hardly an explanation.’

  She’d still had to face people, return their gifts, pack up her wedding gown, eat the food already prepared and paid for and delivered to her parents’ home. And the whole time the tears had kept sliding down her face, soaking into her clothes, exhausting her.

  He came back to the chair, sat opposite her and reached for her hands. ‘I am so sorry for how I treated you, for what I did.’ His fingers were trembling as they squeezed her hands. ‘When I heard about the cancer I was terrified. I thought I’d been given a sentence. There was so much to think about and my mind was such a mess I was completely unable to make the right decisions. And I didn’t want your pity.’

  ‘As if.’ Another thought hit her. ‘Was I in Dunedin when you found out?’

  He shook his head. ‘I found out three days after you left to come up here to sort out all the last-minute things for the wedding. I’d been tired and irritable but put it down to all the study and exams, and our upcoming wedding. But after falling asleep on duty one night I decided to see a doctor to get a prescription for something to give me some energy. I got more than I’d bargained for.’

  She pulled a face at the thought. Her skin felt clammy. Her stomach quaked at the fear for him. ‘Finding out must’ve been horrible.’ On his own. ‘I could’ve been with you.’

  ‘I didn’t even know the doctor had asked for a PSA test. He’d only ticked the boxes for anaemia on the blood test request form. Apparently, he rang the lab and added the prostate test as an afterthought. Damn him.’

  When Nikki raised her eyebrows, he added, ‘It’s kind of like the ostrich syndrome. If the doc hadn’t asked for the test I’d never have known I had cancer and therefore it wouldn’t have existed.’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’

  ‘Very scientific, I know.’ Fraser squeezed her hands and put them back in her lap. ‘It’s a big ask but I hope one day you can forgive me.’ The glass he lifted to his lips was unsteady. One mouthful and half the wine had gone. ‘The oncologist told me I had to have surgery urgently, followed by chemo and radiation. He also mentioned that I’d be sterile after that treatment.’

  ‘Oh, Fraser. I’d have coped with that. It was you I wanted, loved, not any future children.’

  ‘Nikki, Nikki.’ He shook his head again. ‘You loved kids, always made jokes about having a dozen. Your own cricket team with a reserve, you used to quip. How could I take that away from you?’

  ‘How about letting me make up my own mind about it? Huh? Ever think of that? I’m not denying it would’ve been disappointing but nothing in comparison to what losing you was like. I wasn’t marrying you to have children. I wanted to spend my life with you because I loved you.’

  ‘I did have my sperm frozen for later, but it felt all wrong to be asking you to deal with that at the time.’

  ‘Easier to leave me on the day of my wedding?’ The bitterness was unexpected and wrong. Fraser had been through hell and it didn’t matter how badly he’d treated her. He deserved better. Who knew how they’d have dealt with his situation unless they’d faced it?

  Ashamed, she glanced across. ‘Sorry, that was uncalled for. You must’ve been going through hell. I only wish I’d known. That’s what relationships are about—sharing the good and the bad. I’d have been with you the whole way through, fighting for you when you didn’t have the strength, boosting your morale when you didn’t think you’d make it. That’s what my love for you meant.’ Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she ignored them. ‘I’d have done anything for you back then.’

  He stood up, ran a hand over her head, down her cheek, cupped her chin. His eyes were deep, anguished pools, not brown, not black, a nothing dark shade of despair. ‘Exactly. I couldn’t handle that.’

  Then he was gone, closing the front door quietly behind him. Leaving her shocked and shivering. With questions crashing around her skull. Sadness mixed with anger. Self-righteousness laced with despair. And seeping through it all a dawning understanding of the man she’d once loved more than life itself.

  Fraser walked along the edge of the Taylor River where it meandered through town. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his trousers, his chin almost touching his chest.
His mind held an image of Nikki opening the door, dressed in designer, hip-hugging jeans and a fluffy blue sweater the colour of her eyes. Stunned at how gorgeous she’d looked, he’d struggled not to haul her into his arms and kiss her. Temptation in clothes.

  Then the other images overtook him. The images he’d expected right from the beginning. Her shock at his revelation. The sadness, the fear. Her anger at him for not sharing the news with her back at the beginning.

  Nikki owned his heart. She always had. At some time between being a kid and turning into a teenager he’d fallen in love with his best friend’s sister. She’d stolen his breath away with her easy smile and twinkling eyes, her cute nose and smattering of freckles. Only as he’d grown up had he learned that those feelings swamping him were all to do with love.

  She’d hated those freckles and covered them with a hefty layer of make-up whenever she could. And nowadays the smile and twinkle had gone. Because of him?

  He’d effectively killed her love. But he’d saved her a load of anguish. While he regretted how he’d broken off with her, he couldn’t regret doing it. For her sake. He’d loved her too much to ever ask her to give up her dreams for him. And now? When he was home, ready to pick up his life?

  Now was too late. For him and Nik. She’d moved on, made a life that would never include him. She’d become totally self-sufficient, self-reliant. She didn’t need him. He didn’t need her. Right? Right.

  Loud laughter had him snapping his head up, gazing at the restaurant that stood at the top of the bank overlooking the river. People sat around tables, enjoying themselves, each other, sharing meals and wine. Surprised at the longing gripping him, he hesitated. He’d missed that kind of intimacy ever since he’d left Nikki. Not even his close friends had filled the gap made by her absence. Neither had the parade of forgettable women he’d been with to test himself, to assess the true level of his loss, to try to blank out his past.

  If this was his new life then he was damned if he’d stand on the outside looking in and feeling sorry for himself. Striding up the steps, he entered the restaurant and took a seat at the bar, ordering a glass of cabernet merlot and a rare steak from a passing waitress.

  ‘Hey, Fraser McCall, is that you?’ The barman placed the wine in front of him.

  Fraser studied the man on the other side of the counter before shoving his hand out. ‘Mark Stevens, how the hell are you, man?’

  ‘Heard you were back in town. On the ambulances, aren’t you? With Nikki. You two got together again? That’s great news.’

  Ouch. The reality of small towns, home, was that everyone thought they knew your business. ‘No, we’re only working together.’

  ‘Aw, shucks, man. I couldn’t believe it when I heard you’d split. Everyone knew you were made for each other.’

  Fraser swirled the wine in the glass, tasted it, nodding his approval for the wine, not for the way the conversation had gone. Maybe he should’ve kept walking. Walking away from life? ‘So, Mark, what about you? I see you’re wearing a wedding ring. Who’s the lucky woman?’

  He was home, with all that entailed. Tonight he’d apologised to Nikki. Two steps forward. And Mark had underscored what his own heart knew but had recovered from—Nik and he had belonged together. One step back.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘THIS one’s yours,’ Nikki told Fraser as they responded to a priority call. Being a mentor had its benefits. By putting Fraser in charge of the job she could observe his techniques. And keep him busy so he wouldn’t have time to talk about anything other than work.

  ‘Sure thing.’ Fraser looked up from the PRF he held, as though waiting for her to say more. When she didn’t, he began filling in details on the page.

  Dang, she was tired. If she’d got five minutes’ sleep last night, she’d have been lucky. Fraser’s words, all of them, had gone round and round and round in her mind until finally just before 4:00 a.m. she’d got up and made a hot chocolate and watched mindless TV, crying for Fraser and what he must’ve been through, until Amber had come in a little after six.

  It was shift changeover day, which meant Nikki and Fraser had had the day off in preparation for working the next two nights. Nikki had skulked around the flat most of the day, venturing out for her run late in the morning. Her head had ached so much her skull had felt as though it would split in half and she’d returned home after only twenty minutes, deciding ibuprofen and a hot shower were more likely to set her up for work than running for an hour. Tomorrow, she’d make up for the lost kilometres.

  A car pulled out from the kerb directly in front of the ambulance, forcing her to brake hard. Her hand slammed the auxiliary horn. ‘Moron. Can’t you hear the siren? We’re right behind you.’

  ‘Their stereo’s probably heaving.’ Fraser read aloud, ‘“John Gemmell, male, twenty-nine, fell out of a tree.”‘

  ‘What was he doing up a tree in the dark?’ she snapped. ‘It’s after seven o’clock. Got to be nuts.’

  Fraser outlined his approach to the call they were attending. ‘I’m thinking there could be spinal and or head injuries, fractured limbs. Depending on whether the guy landed on flat ground or obstacles lying around he could also have internal injuries.’

  ‘Yes.’ He knew all that, so why run it by her? Making conversation? As she sped down Renwick Road she tried not to think any more about his revelations from the previous evening. There was nothing to be gained by it, but it was very hard to stop considering all the ramifications.

  ‘Two hundred metres to Jackson’s Road,’ Fraser intoned.

  That golden voice reminded her of things she didn’t want to remember. Whispers of sweet nothings that had led to kisses to die for. Kisses that had led to exquisite love-making. Her hands tightened on the steering-wheel while her tongue slid across her lips. Disturbing when she was actually angry at him.

  Fraser peered through the gloom. ‘Looks like that’s the place. Plenty of lights on. According to Coms there’s a small track we’re to follow next door to the winery entrance.’

  ‘Right.’ Nikki focused entirely on navigating the wide vehicle down the narrow, rutted driveway, finally reaching a ramshackle cottage where lights blazed through the dark. After lots of negotiating backwards and forwards in the small area, with a woman who’d been waiting for them on the porch directing her, she got the truck backed around and ready for an easy departure.

  Hopping out, she snapped on gloves and asked, ‘Where’s Mr Gemmell?’

  ‘Around the other side of the house,’ the woman told her. ‘He’s bad, not moving and groaning all the time.’

  ‘We’ll check him over before taking him into hospital,’ Nikki said.

  ‘My sister, John’s wife, is with him. You might need to give her something to calm down as well.’

  ‘Hopefully she’ll feel better when we’ve got John in the ambulance,’ Nikki said quietly as she reached for the stretcher at the same time as Fraser. Her hand snagged on his. Snatching her hand away, she kept her face blank, hoping the flare of heat cooking her brain wasn’t warming her cheeks.

  ‘Want to show me the way?’ Fraser asked the woman, and headed around the side of the house without a backward glance.

  ‘He wasn’t affected at all. Which means he doesn’t have any residual feelings for you.’ Nikki muttered to herself as she pulled the stretcher free, letting its wheels fall to the ground so she could lock them in place. ‘Not that you want to go down the Fraser track again either.’ He might’ve had a very plausible explanation for his desertion but she’d never completely trust him again. No way. And without trust she had nothing.

  Placing the backboard and a collar on the stretcher, she headed in the direction Fraser had gone, looking for hazards on her way. At least headlights from a parked car lit up the area, making it easier to see.

  Fraser was asking, ‘Is John conscious?’

  ‘Yes, has been all the time.’

  ‘How long ago did he fall?’ Fraser unzipped his bag.

 
‘It must be nearly an hour. He went outside to feed the dogs and when he didn’t come back after a few minutes I went looking for him,’ the woman who’d met them replied.

  ‘Are the dogs tied up?’ he asked, glancing around.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why did he climb the tree?’ Nikki pushed the stretcher to the side, out of the way until they were ready to shift John.

  ‘It wasn’t a tree. He came off the roof and crashed through the fence,’ the woman explained.

  ‘Sorry, we’ve been given the wrong details.’

  ‘He’d been muttering about tomorrow’s predicted frost freezing the pipes. The lagging came off in the wind yesterday so he climbed up to tie it back.’

  Glancing upwards, Nikki could see the corrugated iron gleaming with moisture. The sky was clear, the stars twinkling through the freezing air. It wouldn’t be long before ice began forming.

  Fraser introduced himself to the man sprawled on his back on a muddy patch of long grass and covered in blankets. Beside him knelt a thin young woman, gripping his hand so hard his bones were in danger of more trauma. ‘He’s real bad,’ she gasped.

  ‘John, are you in any pain?’ Fraser asked.

  ‘My head hurts, and my leg and back.’ John’s voice was very soft and Fraser had to lean close to hear him.

  ‘On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, how bad is the pain in your head?’

  John murmured, ‘Bad. Eight.’

  ‘And your leg and back?’ Fraser continued his visual appraisal of John.

  ‘Leg ten,’ John gasped as he inadvertently tried to shift his legs. ‘Back five.’

  ‘Okay, John, I’ll give you something for the pain in a moment. I just need to run my hands over your body, checking everywhere for injuries you might not be aware of,’ Fraser continued. ‘Try not to move your head. We’ll put a collar on shortly as a safety measure.’ Beginning at the head, Fraser began examining John thoroughly.

  Nikki eased close beside the woman on the opposite side. ‘I’m Nikki. Are you John’s wife?’