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Brought Together by Baby
Margaret McDonagh











Praise for

Margaret McDonagh:


‘The romance takes a sensual turn that

will have readers longing for the couple’s

much deserved happily-ever-after.’

—RT Book Reviews on VIRGIN MIDWIFE, PLAYBOY DOCTOR

This is Louisa George’s first book for Mills & Boon


Medical


Romance. Look out for more from her, coming soon!




Dear Reader


Welcome to Strathlochan and the tenth of my loosely linked Scottish stories—my fourteenth Mills & Boon® Medical


Romance. Unfortunately, this book has taken many more months to come to fruition than expected, due to a prolonged spell of illness which prevented me from writing. After the heroic efforts of the real-life doctors, nurses and support staff at my local cottage hospital—to whom I send my heartfelt thanks—I’ve been able to return to my fictional heroes and heroines at last.

With two of her closest friends, Gina and Ruth, settled with their respective partners, it is Holly’s turn to find love. She’s waited a long time for her happy ending. So has Gus. They had something special, and lost it before their love had a chance to blossom, but sometimes life rights past wrongs and grants second chances. Fate intervenes to bring Gus and Holly back together, uniting them in a common cause. Can the hurt, resentment, betrayals and misunderstandings of the past be resolved? And will Gus and Holly finally enjoy the happiness they both deserve?

There are more Strathlochan stories waiting in the wings, and I hope I’m well enough to bring them to you without such a long wait in between. Whether you’ve visited the folk in Strathlochan before, or this is your first time, I hope you will enjoy Gus and Holly’s emotional journey and come to love them as much as I do. I also hope you will return to Strathlochan again in future. I’m looking forward to introducing you to Rafael and Georgia in the next story. For now, though, the stage belongs to Gus and Holly …

Love

Margaret

www.margaretmcdonagh.com




Brought

Together

by Baby


Margaret McDonagh






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


With special thanks to:

Dr Nick Edwards, author of In Stitches, for help with my research

John and Jennifer,

for all your help and kindness

Fiona, Craig, Jackie, Lesley, Irene, Fiona, Janet,

Gwen, Caroline, Christina, Maggie, Pam,

Wolfie, Anne, Richard and Fiona,

for being there for me

Jo—editor extraordinaire— for your support, patience and encouragement

All the staff at the local sanatorium,

aka The Madhouse!

Words are insufficient to thank you for

everything you’ve done for me,

in so many ways,

and for all your kindness and care.




CHAPTER ONE


‘YOU won’t believe this, Gus, but the air ambulance is on its way in.’

Dr Gus Buchanan glanced up from the notes he was writing as Carolyn, the nurse assigned to assist him, returned to the treatment cubicle after seeing out their most recent patient. ‘Again?’

‘Again,’ Carolyn confirmed, her tone and wide-eyed expression echoing his own incredulity.

The warm and sunny June day should have been unremarkable, but he was eight hours into his shift and Strathlochan Hospital’s A&E department had been bedlam for every minute of it. The chaos showed no sign of abating: every treatment cubicle was in use, the emergency phone continued to ring non-stop, and now the air ambulance, which had already responded to a record number of calls since early morning, was back in action once more.

Gus snapped the file closed and pocketed his pen. ‘What the hell is going on today?’

‘Heaven knows. It’s the craziest shift I’ve had in the five years I’ve been here,’ his colleague informed him, shaking her head. ‘How many patients have we treated and sent home?’

‘I’ve lost count.’

‘Me, too. And the Minors waiting area is still full to bursting. They’re at breaking point in Resus, too, and have already called in off-duty staff to help. If it carries on like this I wouldn’t be surprised if they had to call for more.’ As she talked Carolyn busied herself clearing up the debris he’d left after stitching a pensioner’s nasty leg wound. ‘The helicopter must be attending something especially serious, Gus, because Kathleen all but threw the emergency phone at Laura in Reception before rushing off to alert Robert Mowbray. I’ve never seen her that upset before.’

Nor had he. Gus frowned. The fact that Kathleen O’Leary, the unflappable department manager, was acting so out of character highlighted the unusualness of the day, but it was hearing how overstretched his colleagues were that increased his frustration. He’d spent the day stuck in Minors rather than being in the thick of the action as part of a Resus team. All the doctors rotated round the A&E department and, whilst he generally enjoyed taking his turn in Minors—where he had more time and saw a wider variety of patients—it was the adrenalin rush of emergency medicine that called to him, testing his skills and giving him the buzz on which many trauma doctors thrived.

As Carolyn washed her hands and applied antibacterial gel to them before setting about restocking the dressing trolley, Gus slid off the high stool he’d perched on to write the notes and stood up. ‘While you prep things here, I’ll find out what’s next on our agenda.’

‘OK, Gus.’

He didn’t admit it aloud, but he was secretly hoping that Robert Mowbray, the head consultant on duty, would notice him and reassign him to help out in Resus, despite the queues in Minors.

‘Thanks, Carolyn. Grab yourself a cup of tea when you’re done.’

His suggestion earned him a rueful smile. ‘The chance would be a fine thing! No one has stopped all day, yourself included, and I can’t see any sign of that changing.’

‘Not if the patients keep coming at the same rate,’ he agreed, masking his fatigue, knowing it was shared by all his colleagues.

Caroline sent him a quick grin. ‘One of the registrars has dubbed today Wild Wednesday.’

‘Let’s hope it doesn’t turn into Tempestuous Thursday and Frantic Friday, too,’ Gus countered, returning her smile.

‘Don’t even joke about it!’

Carolyn’s chuckle followed him as he left the cubicle and negotiated his way along the busy corridor. She was a pleasant and competent young woman to work with, Gus reflected. All the nurses were. Apart from department vamp Olivia Barr, whose professional standards left much to be desired and whom he avoided whenever possible. But neither Carolyn nor any of the other nurses was as naturally skilled or as instinctively on the same wavelength with him as Holly had been.

His step faltered.

Holly …

For a moment the breath caught in his throat as everything within him tightened and his mood darkened. Holly was the nurse with whom he had become so close following his arrival in Strathlochan the previous August. Now even thinking about her was forbidden and upsetting—although that didn’t stop his mind lingering on her far more often than he cared to admit. Holly had burrowed into his psyche and, try as he might, he hadn’t been able to banish her.

Things between Holly and himself had turned sour suddenly and in so many ways that it had been both a relief and a wrench when she had transferred to the Children’s Ward at the beginning of the year. He’d refused to acknowledge or unravel his own complex responses to her leaving. But there was no doubt that A&E had lost one of its finest nurses … or that his colleagues held him responsible for that loss.

A distinct chill had lingered in the atmosphere after Holly’s departure. Support and sympathy had lain squarely with her, while he had universally been dubbed the villain of the piece. The truth? It was his fault. And no one knew that more than him. Although it didn’t absolve Holly of blame for her own part in things, no one felt more guilty, more angry or more riddled with self-disgust and regret than he did, and no one could think less of him than he thought of himself.

He’d been a loner all his life. It had never bothered him. Indeed, he felt most comfortable behind the barrier he put between himself and the rest of the world. Only when he’d been plunged back into the self-inflicted spell of isolation after the events with Holly had he fully realised how much of a difference she had made, how much she had changed him, and how much colour she had brought to the greyness of his world.

Through Holly he’d had a taste of acceptance and friendship and belonging the like of which he had never experienced before. Until, following her rejection of him—which had hit hard when he’d been at his lowest ebb—he’d thrown it all away in a moment of weakness. Through his own stupidity he’d lost any chance of reconciliation, of persuading Holly to change her mind about taking their relationship to the next level and, as a result, his hope for a promising future with Holly had been shattered.

Yes, Holly had played a part. She’d hurt and disappointed him. And finding out that she’d kept things from him, that he hadn’t known her as well as he’d thought, had dented his trust in her. But blaming her didn’t excuse his own reaction, and feelings of guilt and self-disgust continued to torment him.

Since Holly’s transfer from A&E he’d kept his head down and worked hard, more grateful than he’d expected to be when, as the days and weeks passed, he had slowly won back the professional acceptance and co-operation of his colleagues. What they thought of him personally was less clear. He only knew that self-respect remained a long way away.

Since the chasm had opened up between them he’d been careful to keep his distance, and once Holly had moved to the Children’s Ward he’d gone out of his way to avoid running into her around the hospital. He hadn’t caught even the briefest glimpse of her for weeks. Unfortunately out of sight had not rendered her out of mind. Holly continued to haunt him, which not only irritated him no end but added to the disappointment, confusion and hurt he still felt at the slightest thought of her.

And, above all, the pressing weight of guilt.

He had no business whatsoever thinking about Holly. Not any more. Not since the night when her public rejection of him had sparked off the chain of events that had rollercoastered out of his control, culminating on the day in December when his mistakes had come home to roost.

The day of his hastily arranged civil marriage.

The day Holly had become his sister-in-law … and Julia his wife.

Gus bit down the derisive, humourless laugh that rose inside him. He used the term ‘wife’ in the loosest sense of the word. Not that anyone had a clue about the true state of his six-and-a-half-month marriage. Which was just the way he wanted it. Apart from the man who had been his mentor throughout his troubled teenage years—a man whose premature death four years previously had left a big and painful hole—there was only one person in whom he had truly felt able to confide anything about himself and his life.

Holly.

And now she was the one person he could never talk to again—especially about his sham of a marriage to her sister Julia, and the loneliness he felt within it. The situation was entirely his own fault, and no matter how difficult things were all he could do was make the best of them. Because within the next few weeks the dynamics would change again and he would have a new role. A role he had never planned on or wanted and which brought with it a whole new range of frightening emotions and responsibilities: fatherhood.

As he approached the main desk the charged atmosphere and tension within the A&E department became even more evident. Robert Mowbray was talking intently on the emergency phone, while Kathleen was busy keeping up with the instructions Robert fired at her.

‘What’s happening, Laura?’ Gus asked, handing the young clerk the patient file on which he had just signed off. To his surprise, the normally bubbly and talkative girl shook her head and avoided meeting his gaze. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Fine.’

The response was muffled and the girl’s head remained bowed. Clearly she was anything but fine. Making a mental note to keep an eye on her, Gus moved to the nearby whiteboard. As he wiped off the details of his last patient he listened in to Robert’s side of the conversation, and it was immediately obvious that Carolyn had been right: something major was taking place.

‘I trust your judgement, Frazer,’ the consultant said, identifying the caller as Frazer McInnes, one of the flight doctors on Strathlochan’s air ambulance. ‘Kathleen is calling in the relevant specialists and alerting the operating theatre now. She may have experienced the first signs of labour before the crash … No, I agree with you. Our primary concern has to be for the baby and making every effort possible to save it. If she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt she might have sustained such fatal injuries hitting the steering wheel and the windscreen. How’s the foetal heartbeat? I’m not surprised the baby’s showing signs of distress. Do what you can to control the haemorrhaging. We’re on standby ready for you. We’ll bypass Resus and go straight to Theatre.’

Gus suppressed the wave of nausea that ripped through him as the horrific implications of the accident sank in. How dreadful for the casualties—the pregnant woman’s family in particular—but his sympathies also went out to the medical personnel. Any emergency that involved a baby was always difficult but, like himself, Frazer was also anticipating becoming a father soon, so this would be painfully close to home right now.

He certainly didn’t know how he would cope were he in Frazer’s place, confronting such a critical, challenging and emotional situation, Gus admitted, a shiver running down his spine. This was one occasion when he was glad to be in a well-equipped A&E department with back-up at hand rather than dealing with the pre-hospital conditions out at the roadside, making the best of what was available and taking the responsibility of making split-second life-and-death decisions.

Robert hung up the phone and turned to address the assorted personnel who were gathering around him and who seemed, Gus thought, more tense and edgy than usual. Why were they acting so strangely? Even the department’s joker, registrar Dr Will Brown, renowned for his ready smile and sense of humour, was uncharacteristically sombre and subdued. Puzzled, Gus put his colleagues’ changed behaviour down to the stress of the incredibly busy and pressured day.

‘ETA four minutes. I need extra fluids made ready—Frazer will be running low,’ Robert announced, and a senior nurse hurried off to do his bidding. ‘Kathleen, ask Security to help maintain a clear route to Theatre. And alert the blood bank. A transfusion is more than likely.’

‘I’m on it.’

Hoping to make himself useful, Gus stepped closer, but when he caught his boss’s gaze he was unable to read the expression that lingered there before the older man turned away to issue further instructions.

‘This is a unique and horrible situation, so focus on your tasks and not on the wider implications,’ he advised cryptically, puzzling Gus further. ‘You know what to do. Let’s get on. Someone hold the lift so there’s no delay when we need it. Kathleen …?’

‘Security are on the way. I’ve notified the blood bank. And I’ve fast-bleeped the emergency obstetrician and neurologist. They’re going straight to Theatre to scrub up,’ the middle-aged woman announced, the waver in her lilting Irish voice and her unusual pallor increasing Gus’s concern and the insidious feeling that something was very wrong here.

Grim-faced, Robert nodded. ‘And the neonatal consultant?’

‘He’s dealing with a problem baby in Paediatric Intensive Care next door,’ Kathleen explained, referring to the maternity wing adjacent to the main hospital. ‘But he’ll be across directly.’

Unsettled, Gus spoke up. ‘Is there anything I can do to help, Robert?’

‘No!’

Gus was taken aback by the shrill and sudden denial—even more so because it came from Laura. A flash of anguish in her own eyes, Kathleen hurried across to the girl, who was clearly distressed.

‘Take a break in the staffroom to get yourself together,’ the older woman advised, kind but firm. As Laura pushed back her chair and hurried away, Kathleen exchanged another pained glance with Robert. ‘I’ll talk to her when I’ve finished here.’

‘Of course,’ the consultant agreed.

Before Gus could query Laura’s strange reaction, Robert laid a hand on his shoulder and drew him aside.

‘Gus …’ He paused and shook his head, concern and compassion evident in his eyes before his gaze strayed towards the entrance. The doors were open, allowing them to hear the first sounds of the approaching air ambulance. ‘Please wait for me in my office,’ Robert continued. The distinctive noise of the helicopter’s rotor blades increased as the aircraft descended onto the landing pad. Gus was aware of Robert’s hand tightening briefly on his shoulder before contact was withdrawn. ‘I’m sorry, Gus. I’ll come and talk with you in a few minutes.’

The consultant was rushing through the department before Gus could ask what he was sorry for and what he wanted to talk about. As he made his way to the office his unease increased in unison with the strange buzz in the department. If Robert wasn’t going to reassign him, he needed to get back to Minors to see his share of the patients requiring attention. Either way, he didn’t want to be cooling his heels here for long.

His thoughts took an abrupt change of direction when he saw Frazer McInnes enter the department at a run, his flight paramedic Rick Duncan at the other end of the stretcher. Both men were covered in blood and carrying IV lines in one hand while guiding the trolley with the other. And both looked drained, clearly shaken by the traumatic events they had witnessed at the accident site and on the flight to the hospital.

‘Clear the way!’ Frazer called, his voice rough and impatient.

As Frazer, Rick, Robert and their entourage rushed down the corridor to the lifts, Gus offered up a plea for the baby’s survival. Moved by the tragedy, he thrust his hands into the pockets of his scrub trousers and paced the small office, too on edge to wait patiently. He was on the point of returning to Reception to question Kathleen when his boss returned.

An inexplicable shiver of dread rippled through him at the uncharacteristically bleak expression in Robert’s eyes as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

‘Sit, please,’ he invited.

Gus did as he was asked, but instead of moving round the desk to take his own chair Robert stood beside him, once more resting a hand on his shoulder. Rather than reassuring him, the gesture increased Gus’s unease. A dark premonition chilled his blood.

‘What is it, Robert? Have I done something wrong?’ he asked, unable to bear the electric silence another moment.

‘No. No, of course not,’ his boss responded, sounding weary and resigned. ‘Gus, there’s something I must tell you …’

Holly Tait finished the scheduled observations and wrote the information on her six-year-old patient’s chart. The little girl had returned from Theatre less than twenty-four hours ago following an operation to remove her infected appendix. Understandably, she was still very sore. Holly checked the chart to see when the next medications were due, her disobedient gaze straying to the signature of the A&E doctor responsible for the girl’s admission.

Gus Buchanan. Pain lanced through her, but Holly knew that hers, unlike her patient’s, was a pain no medicine could cure. She’d transferred from the A&E department to the Children’s Ward in January, hoping that removing herself from Gus’s presence would be the first step in the healing process. It hadn’t worked. Now it was June, and she still couldn’t get him, what he’d done, or the barrage of conflicting emotions out of her mind. Even reading his name or seeing his handwriting twisted the knife that pierced her heart. And it hurt as much as ever.

Sensing she was being watched, Holly looked up and saw Sister Erica Sharpe’s formidable form standing in the ward’s office doorway. Erica beckoned her and Holly nodded her understanding. She hung the chart on the bed and ensured her young charge was comfortable before walking towards the office, wondering if they had a new admission to contend with. It had been a busy day, with several new patients coming in, and they had little space left for any more beds.

As Holly approached Erica remained in the doorway, hands planted on ample hips. She could be anywhere between fifty and seventy years of age—no one knew, and asking was out of the question. Erica had been part of the hospital since its transformation from a small cottage hospital to the well-equipped regional infirmary it had become, growing over the years in proportion with the way Strathlochan itself had expanded.

Erica had a fearsome reputation—Sharpe by name and, on occasion, sharp by nature—and even the most senior consultants had been known to quiver in their boots when on the receiving end of her displeasure. Student nurses approached her ward with awe and trepidation. Holly smiled, remembering her own scary first meeting with Erica. Several years on and she had huge respect for the woman who gave everything for her patients and under whose impressive bosom beat a heart of gold.

‘Come in, Holly,’ she invited, her sombre expression and the look in her eyes making Holly feel uneasy.

Inside the office Holly faltered, surprised to see Gina Adriani, one of her closest friends, sitting there. A fellow staff nurse, Gina had worked with her in A&E before leaving the previous summer to take up a position at Strathlochan’s new multi-purpose drop-in centre. Just married and blissfully happy, today Gina looked uncharacteristically pensive and pale.

‘Hello! What are you doing here? Have you come to do some real work?’ Holly joked, trying to shake off a sudden sense of foreboding.

‘No, not that.’

Gina didn’t return her smile and Holly’s apprehension increased. ‘What is it?’

‘Sit down, my dear,’ Erica advised, nudging a free chair closer to Gina’s.

‘What’s going on?’ Holly asked again, glad for the seat as her legs now felt too wobbly to hold her.

Erica never called anyone ‘my dear’ unless there was bad news. Holly’s imagination ran wild and fear took hold. Had something happened to Seb, Gina’s husband? Or to their mutual friends Rico and Ruth?

Before she could voice her anxiety Gina took her hand. ‘I wish there was some better way to tell you.’

‘Tell me what?’ Holly’s chest tightened as alarm increased. ‘Gina?’

Her friend sucked in a breath. ‘There’s been a terrible road accident. Holly, it’s Julia. She’s been fatally injured.’

Holly reeled, suddenly feeling as if she was dreaming. She groped for words, which at first would not come.

‘Wh-What about the baby?’ She somehow forced the question past the fear and shock that clogged her throat. ‘It’s not due until next month.’

‘Julia was brought in by air ambulance and is in Theatre now. A specialist team is doing everything possible to save the baby,’ Gina explained, but the words failed to quell the terror building within.

‘Oh, my God.’

Holly sagged in the chair, her fingers tightening reflexively on Gina’s as Erica rested an arm around her shoulders. Both women were talking, but Holly didn’t hear a word: her heart was racing, every manic beat reverberating in her ears. As the horrific news sank in a range of mixed emotions and unanswered questions chased themselves through her head, and a cry of distress welled within her as she zeroed in on one thing.

One person.

Whatever else had happened, however much he’d hurt her, and however badly things had gone wrong, there was only one person she could think of now and only one place she needed to be.

‘Gus,’ she whispered, her voice raw with the pain searing through her. ‘I have to go to him.’




CHAPTER TWO


HOLLY didn’t care whether hospital rules discouraged running in the corridors. The only thought pounding in her mind as she raced out of the Children’s Ward was to reach Gus as soon as possible.

‘I don’t know how the accident happened,’ Gina said, keeping pace beside her. ‘We had a phone call asking us to come in and give what support we could. I came to you … Seb went to find Gus.’

‘Thank you.’

However conflicted her feelings, however strong the sense of betrayal, and however angry, hurt and upset she was with him, she couldn’t bear the thought of Gus’s grief. It was a relief to know Seb was with him. On the darkest and worst of days, when part of her had wanted to lash out at Gus, to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her, she would never have wished something this awful to happen.

Rather than wait for the lift Holly pushed open the door to the staff stairway, footsteps echoing as they hurried down two flights to the floor below. As they emerged into the wide corridor and approached the double doors of the operating suite their pace slowed and Gina rested a hand at the small of her back.

‘Holly, I’m worried about you.’

‘Worry about Gus and the baby,’ she requested, her voice shaky. ‘Not me.’

‘I know how you feel, hon, but …’

As the anxious words trailed off Holly acknowledged that, although her best friend had some understanding of the situation, no one—not even Gina—knew the true extent of her feelings, because she’d worked so hard for so many months to hide them. She had presented an outward image of calm serenity to the world … one that belied the terrible pain, loss and the sense of betrayal that ripped her to shreds.

Before Gina could utter another word Holly opened the door and headed towards the waiting area. There were several people inside—Seb, a theatre representative, Frazer and Rick from the air ambulance, a policeman … and Gus. It was to the latter that her gaze was instinctively drawn.

Dressed in A&E scrubs, he stood apart from the others and a little ache settled inside her at how symbolic that was, how characteristic of the man she had come to know. A man who had been so alone and who found it so hard to let anyone get close to him. She’d breached that reserve and for a brief while had found the man within. And had fallen in love with him. Before everything had gone so spectacularly wrong.

She hadn’t set eyes on Gus for weeks: a deliberate ploy but an unsuccessful one, because she hadn’t stopped thinking about him for a moment. Anger and humiliation churned inside her, as did the fire of resentment and jealousy, and the hurt that never went away. She’d tried to convince herself she hated him—she certainly hated what he’d done—but she despaired of the part of herself that missed him and cared about him. Now, like someone parched with thirst stumbling on a fresh oasis, she greedily drank in the sight of him.

An inch or two under six feet, he wasn’t the tallest man in the room, but to her he was the most impressive, the one who immediately held her attention. Even in the unflattering scrubs he looked heart-stoppingly handsome and intensely masculine. His thick dark brown hair was mussed—a result, she knew, of his characteristic habit of running a hand through it when he was stressed—and the way a few defiant strands flopped rakishly across his forehead was so familiar and endearing it brought a sting to her heart.

Her first instinct was to rush to him and hug him, needing both to comfort and be comforted, but as if he sensed her presence he turned to look at her. One glimpse at the stony mask on his unusually pale face and the distant expression in his smoky green eyes halted her in her tracks. Instinctively she shrank back.

That he was ravaged by shock was evident. But his pain also pained her, because it drove home again the way he’d publicly rejected her and chosen Julia … and how the two people she should have been able to trust most had hurt and betrayed her, leaving her the broken-hearted object of hospital gossip. Withdrawing into herself, she had wrestled with the stark contradiction and confusion. She remained filled with pain and bitter regret, yet a part of her couldn’t stop caring about him.

Instinctively she clung to Gina’s hand, allowing her friend to guide her to some nearby chairs to sit down. The tension in the room was palpable, and Holly tried to put her own feelings aside and assess what was happening. Frazer and Rick were in conversation with the policeman, giving their accounts, she assumed, of events at the scene of the accident. As for Gus, he was now talking with the woman from the operating room, and as Holly listened it became clear that his request to access Theatre had been refused. Moved to protest on his behalf, Holly stood up again, her legs trembling as she took a step forward to voice her own opinion.

‘Surely Gus has a right to be in there?’ she argued, all too conscious that the man in question was looking at her once more.

Gus stared at Holly in surprise. He hadn’t expected such staunch support from her, but here she was, planting herself firmly in his corner, and there was no doubt her indignation was genuine.

‘This is a difficult situation for both of you,’ the theatre administrator responded, calm and yet firm, looking from Holly to Gus. ‘But I’d ask for your patience. The specialist team are doing all they can to ensure the baby’s survival. As soon as they are free to talk to you, one of the consultants will give you all the information you need.’

He hated being denied the opportunity to witness the moment his child came into the world, especially given the risk to his or her life, yet he understood from a medical perspective why they were keeping him out of the operating room.

‘The most crucial thing is the baby,’ he allowed, his voice hoarse, a mix of emotions raging inside him.

Holly nodded, and she was close enough that he heard the little hitch in her breath. ‘I agree.’

As the theatre assistant left, and Holly returned to her seat next to Gina, Gus turned and gazed out of the window. The hospital sat on the side of a hill, and from here he could look over the valley in which the picturesque town of Strathlochan sprawled around two sides of the loch that gave it its name. The town drew patronage from a wide area, and many villages and isolated communities depended on Strathlochan’s small but comprehensive services.

There had been times in the last few months when he’d wished he’d never set foot in Strathlochan, Gus admitted, running the fingers of one hand through his hair. Times when bitter regret and intense loneliness had overtaken the brief spell of unusual happiness he’d experienced when he’d first arrived, before things with Holly had turned sour.

Right now he was struggling to come to terms with the shock of hearing Robert speak the accident victim’s name. The reality that Julia had been fatally injured brought feelings he couldn’t allow himself to dwell on, because overshadowing everything was the knowledge that his baby’s life hung in the balance.

It felt like hours, not minutes, since the helicopter had arrived and his world had turned upside down. He’d rushed up to the operating suite from A&E alone, the tension, fear and uncertainty of the wait making him nauseous. He had questions—many questions. Talking with Frazer and Rick was a priority, but they were still being questioned by one of the policemen investigating the accident.

An accident he couldn’t understand.

Why had Julia been driving? As far as he knew she’d never had a licence. He’d parked his car in the hospital car park that morning, so how and when had she taken it? Where had she been? Why? And what had happened? The police would want answers, too, but they would have to wait—one issue overrode everything else.

Had his child won the battle for life?

A ragged breath shuddered through him and he tried to refocus his thoughts before they overwhelmed him.

Thoughts that slid inexorably back to Holly.

Seb Adriani had reached the operating suite’s waiting area a few seconds after him. Gus didn’t know the Italian doctor well—although he was the husband of one of Holly’s best friends—but he’d been grateful when Seb had told him that Gina was with Holly. At least he’d had some forewarning of her possible arrival.

But nothing had prepared him for the moment when she’d walked into the waiting room. After weeks, months, of not seeing her, the instant he’d been aware of her presence and turned to look at her he’d experienced a whole gamut of confusing emotions. The first thing he’d wanted to do in these most desperate of circumstances was to take her in his arms and hold her, but as she’d hesitated and turned away from him he’d managed to prevent himself from doing anything stupid. He’d made a fool of himself over Holly once. He didn’t plan on doing it again.

On edge and impatient, Gus wrestled with his reaction to Holly. He could see her now, her image reflected in the glass of the window as she sat across the room, and he shifted to bring her more into focus. In her smart, staff-nurse’s uniform, and with her shoulder-length wavy blonde hair tied back in a short ponytail, she looked fresh-faced, incredibly young … and scared.

Her flawless skin was ashen, so pale that the cute smattering of freckles dusting her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose were more noticeable than usual, while her sky-blue eyes, fringed by long sooty lashes, looked far too big and bruised with worry. Drawn to her, he turned around, his disobedient gaze clashing with hers. Tension hummed between them for several long moments. He tried to look away but found he couldn’t, held as if by some invisible force.

It was the sudden arrival of one of the consultants that ended the strange and uncomfortable interlude.

‘Gus Buchanan and Holly Tait?’ the man queried, pushing through the heavy swing door into the room, the mask he had worn in Theatre now hanging limply around his neck. ‘You’re the relatives?’

‘Yes,’ Gus confirmed, stepping forward as Holly stood up. He recognised the man by sight, and knew of his reputation, but they’d never met before.

‘I’m Shaun Haggerty, consultant neonatologist.’ The introductions made, he shook hands with them both. ‘If you come with me, I’ll bring you up to speed on what’s happened and we can discuss in private what you want to do.’

Intensely aware of Holly’s presence, Gus held open the door of the waiting room, finding it hard to breathe past the restriction in his throat, scared at what he was about to hear regarding the condition of his baby.

‘Seb and I will wait here in case you need us,’ Gina promised, and Holly nodded her appreciation before she forced unsteady legs to move.

She followed Gus and Mr Haggerty down the hall and into a small nondescript office. Her stomach was so churned up with emotion that she felt positively ill, and she couldn’t stop shaking. As Mr Haggerty closed the door and walked around the desk Holly sat on the vacant chair next to Gus.

‘This has been a big shock for you both,’ Mr Haggerty began, his expression sombre. ‘I’m sure you have a lot of questions. The police are investigating the accident and will want to talk to you, so I’ll leave that side of things to them and deal only with the medical issues.’ He paused, looking from Gus to her and back again. ‘Is that all right with you?’

‘Yes. Thank you. Right now I just want to know about the baby,’ Gus replied, and tears stung Holly’s eyes at the unmistakable desperation in his voice—a desperation that matched her own.

Realising both men were waiting for her response, Holly nodded her agreement, too off-balance for more coherent thought. ‘Me, too.’

As she spoke she was painfully conscious that none of them had mentioned Julia. She glanced at Gus. His face was a mask, revealing none of the emotion she knew must be rampaging through him. Instinctively she wanted to comfort him, and to seek comfort in return, but the special rapport they’d once shared had broken down so completely she was now nervous and uncertain of his reaction. So she curbed the urge to reach for his hand, and as the consultant began speaking she focused on his words.

‘I’m afraid Mrs Buchanan suffered serious head, neck and facial injuries,’ Mr Haggerty informed them, and Holly closed her eyes at the horror that had befallen her sister. ‘The air ambulance was returning from transferring a patient to Glasgow when the call came in to attend the car crash, which meant they were close by and on scene within minutes,’ he continued, leaning forward and steepling his fingers together. ‘The flight doctor and the paramedic detected a weak foetal heartbeat and did everything they could to maintain the baby’s life in order to reach the hospital.’

Holly flicked another quick glance towards Gus in time to see him running fingers through his hair—such a familiar sign of his stress and agitation.

‘The only blessing to emerge from this tragedy is thanks to Frazer and Rick,’ the consultant added, the ghost of a smile relieving the sternness of his expression.

‘How do you mean?’ Gus asked, his voice hoarse.

Holly clenched her hands together until the knuckles turned white, hoping and praying that there was still hope for the baby.

‘There is much we still need to talk about,’ Mr Haggerty stressed, ‘but I can tell you, Gus, that thanks to the quick actions of the flight crew, combined with the skill and determination of everyone in Theatre, you now have a son.’

A son.

He had a son.

The words hammered inside Gus’s head, and for several moments all he could hear was the rushing of blood in his veins as it pulsed with a matching rhythm … a son, a son, a son, a son.

A shiver of reaction ran down his spine. As he struggled to control the welling of emotion that brought an uncharacteristic sting to his eyes he felt the light brush of Holly’s fingers on the back of his hand. Without conscious thought he gratefully accepted the physical contact, moving so they were palm to palm, their fingers naturally interlocking.

‘My s-son …?’ he asked, stumbling as he voiced the word aloud for the first time. ‘How is he?’

‘He’s a fighter. Given the trauma of the accident and the delivery—and the suggestion that he could be up to four weeks premature—he’s in miraculously good shape. So far,’ Mr Haggerty informed them.

Relieved despite the words of caution, Gus expelled a shaky breath. ‘Thank God.’

Holly’s fingers tightened on his and he returned the pressure, overwhelmed after the nerve-racking and stressful wait for news that his son was alive. Not only alive, but by all accounts with a real chance of survival.

‘We’re transferring him to the paediatric intensive care unit in the maternity wing so we can monitor him closely,’ the consultant continued. ‘He’s small. And he’s bruised. It appears your wife wasn’t wearing her seatbelt, so he must have taken a battering in the crash, and then there was his somewhat unceremonious entry into the world. We need to do some tests—’

‘What kind of tests?’ Gus demanded, anxiety once more rising within him.

‘As I said, your son seems remarkably robust. At the moment we can’t tell whether he’s suffered any ill-effects from the accident … how long he experienced any loss of oxygen or blood-flow, for example. There are a couple of other issues we need to clarify with you, too,’ the man added, a frown on his face.

Gus’s chest tightened. ‘What kind of issues? What’s wrong?’

‘We have questions about the validity of his due date—’

‘There’s no doubt about that,’ Gus interrupted, tension ripping through him. It was one of the few things he was certain about.

The older man raised an eyebrow. ‘No room for error at all?’ he asked, a note of disbelief edging his voice.

‘None,’ Gus confirmed, although he had no intention of explaining why he was so certain about his baby’s conception—especially in front of Holly.

‘If that’s so,’ the consultant remarked, his doubts obvious, ‘then he’s unusually well-developed. He’s not displaying the signs of prematurity we would expect in a baby of that age.’

‘Maybe the upheaval of the accident and delivery are masking other things,’ Holly suggested softly.

Gus glanced at her, noting the pallor of her skin and feeling the tremor of her hand in his. Her support of him took his breath away. And confused him. Guilt and self-disgust about the fateful night in question—the one that had resulted in the baby and sparked off everything else—returned with a vengeance. As did the memory of Holly’s reaction … her anger, confusion, hurt, and the cool disdain in her eyes when she’d looked at him that had chilled him to the marrow of his bones.

A short-lived but virulent virus which had kept him off work for a few days had knocked him for six—as had the medication prescribed to combat some of the more debilitating symptoms. Only the prospect of his first proper date with Holly could have tempted him out that evening. A date which, he’d hoped, would mark a turning point in their relationship, moving it from platonic friendship to something more intimate and permanent.

He’d been waiting for Holly in the Strathlochan Arms, the favoured haunt of many of the local services personnel, where he’d been renting a room until contracts were signed and he could move into his new house. Holly had not only stood him up without contacting him herself, but she’d ensured her rejection was delivered in the most public and humiliating of ways in front of many of their colleagues.

He’d been ridiculously early, sitting at a table near the log fire and counting the seconds until Holly’s arrival, excitement and hopeful expectation firing his blood and distracting him from how rough he was feeling. A change in the atmosphere had drawn his attention and he’d glanced up to see a striking-looking woman walking towards him. A noticeable buzz of tension and anticipation had rippled through those present in the bar.

There had been no doubting the stranger’s outward beauty, capturing as she had the interest of most of the men in the room—and the envy of many of the women. She’d been tall, her platinum-blonde hair sleek and styled to perfection, its fashionable cut framing the somewhat angular bone structure of her face. Given the colour of her skin, she had been no stranger to sunbeds and fake tan. Her hazel eyes had been almond-shaped, her nose narrow and up-tilted at the tip, while her pouting lips—which he’d suspected were a result of filler injections rather than Mother Nature—had been defined with siren-red lipstick. Skin-tight jeans tucked inside knee-length leather boots had emphasised long, long legs, while an expensive cashmere top had clung to her slender figure.

In Gus’s view she had been too slender, too polished and too artificial. He’d infinitely preferred Holly’s womanly curves and natural beauty. The disinterested assessment had run rapidly through his mind as the unknown woman approached him, and he’d regarded her with suspicion when she stopped at his table.

‘Are you Gus Buchanan?’ she asked, her head tilted coquettishly to one side.

Wary, Gus nodded. ‘Yes, I am. Why?’

‘My name is Julia Tait.’ The woman paused for a moment before completing her introduction. ‘I’m Holly’s sister.’

‘Her sister?’ Gus repeated, aware of the shock and confusion in his voice.

‘Let me guess … Holly never told you about me.’

Embarrassed by the unexpected situation, Gus frowned, puzzled and annoyed by Holly’s blatant omission—and Julia’s apparent expectation of it. ‘No. No, I—’

‘Don’t worry, I’m used to it,’ Julia admitted, rescuing him from his clumsy efforts to explain the unexplainable. With a sigh, she shook her head. ‘I’m afraid Holly has been lost to me for some time … she only acknowledges me or asks for help when she wants something. And this time, I’m afraid, my uncomfortable mission is to tell you that Holly’s changed her mind about dating you. She’s not coming, Gus … tonight or any other night.’

As she paused something flashed in her eyes, but it was gone before he could identify it. He was having enough trouble hiding his dismay as the full realisation of what she was saying sank in.

‘I’m really sorry, Gus, but Holly doesn’t want to go out with you.’




CHAPTER THREE


‘I SEE.’ Gus had struggled to mask his bitter disappointment, hurt and confusion. ‘Why can’t Holly tell me herself?’

Julia had sighed, shaking her head. ‘That’s Holly for you. She gets in too deep and expects someone else—me—to do her dirty work.’

Irritation rose within him—not just because Holly had stood him up but because she had chosen not to do the decent thing and say so herself. Not to mention the fact that she had kept things from him … like the existence of a sister. Given that he’d opened up to her about his past as he’d never done with anyone else before, with Holly professing her understanding about why family was so important to him, it was even stranger that she’d declined to tell him the truth about her own. It seemed out of character for the Holly he knew. But maybe he didn’t know her after all. Wary and cautious, he’d begun re-establishing his protective guard, afraid his fledgling trust had been misplaced.

‘May I sit down?’

Julia’s query had cut through his thoughts. He’d wanted to say no, to be left alone so he could retreat to his room to think over Holly’s rejection—a rejection witnessed by colleagues present in the bar.

Sensing that he and Julia were being watched, Gus reluctantly succumbed to politeness. ‘Of course,’ he invited, waiting as she pulled up a chair and sat down opposite him before good manners drove him to prolong the awkward and unwanted encounter. ‘Would you like a drink?’

A smile curved her mouth. ‘Thanks. A vodka and orange, please.’

Gus rose to his feet, pausing with one hand resting on the table as light-headedness assailed him. He made his way to the bar, conscious of people looking at him, and along with Julia’s drink he was grateful for the glass of iced water the landlady gave him.

‘Still feeling rotten, Gus?’ the kindly woman asked him.

He nodded in assent, regretting it immediately when the headache hammering inside his skull intensified. ‘Unfortunately, yes,’ he admitted, managing a smile.

As he made his way back to his table Gus noticed Julia bending forward, apparently engrossed with something he couldn’t see. Before he could rejoin her he was waylaid by one of his colleagues, who was pulling on his coat and on the point of leaving.

‘Gus?’ Dr Trevor Wilkinson—a registrar, Strathlochan born and bred, who had recently returned to work in A&E following a long spell of illness—rested a hand on Gus’ arm, detaining him. ‘You don’t look well. The medication not helping?’

‘The pills have improved things. I just react badly to them,’ Gus admitted wryly, understanding for the first time why some patients complained that the side-effects of the medication they were prescribed were as bad as, or worse than, the condition with which they’d been diagnosed.

Trevor gestured to the glasses Gus was carrying. ‘You’d do better taking it easy on the alcohol, then!’

‘Mine’s water—I don’t drink.’

‘Good. You’ll need all your wits about you,’ the registrar advised cryptically.

Gus frowned. ‘How do you mean?’

‘You’re playing with fire,’ Trevor replied, lowering his voice so those nearby couldn’t hear. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, Gus.’

The comments puzzled him, but Trevor was gone, edging through the crowd, before Gus could question him further.

Perplexed by the conversation, Gus returned to his table. Julia, still with her back to him, glanced round briefly, before making a couple of furtive movements out of his sight, but by the time he sat down and met her gaze she was smiling at him, the picture of innocence.

‘Thank you for this,’ she said, taking a sip of her drink.

Gus nodded, still nonplussed and knocked off-kilter by the events of the evening. Feeling too warm, he shifted along the banquette away from the heat of the log fire, his hand coming into contact with his mobile phone as he did so. He’d had no idea it had slipped from his pocket. Surreptitiously he checked the screen, but there were no tell-tale indications of missed calls or texts. What had he expected? That Julia was wrong and Holly had tried to contact him? Disenchanted, his hopes dashed, he refocused his attention on the unwanted companion opposite him.

‘What happened between you and Holly?’ he forced himself to ask, taking a long drink of ice-cold water.

Julia looked sad, but resigned, and the story she told him of her estrangement from her younger sister touched his heart, resonating as it did with his own lack of family. And he couldn’t help but be further disappointed in Holly. Not only had she listened to his explanation about his background but she’d professed her sorrow and understanding. She had even cried for him.

Had they been crocodile tears? It appeared so. If Holly had understood, surely she would have told him about Julia. In one night the only woman he’d ever believed himself in love with had rejected him publicly in front of their colleagues, and he had discovered she had also lied to him by omission. What else didn’t he know about her?

Hurt, upset and confused, he drained his glass before leaning back and closing his eyes. His head was pounding. The virus and the pills were still affecting him, leaving him feeling hot and cold at the same time, his whole body aching, and occasional waves of nausea gripping his stomach.

‘Are you all right?’ Julia asked with concern.

‘I’m sorry.’ He might be a loner, and unused to socialising, but he disliked rudeness, and guilt assailed him for his lack of manners. Gus gave himself a mental shake. ‘I’ve not been feeling too good.’

Julia rose elegantly to her feet and picked up his empty glass. ‘Let me get you another drink. Unless you’d rather have a coffee or something to eat?’

‘No!’ His negative response was swift, the very thought of coffee and food causing his stomach to rebel once more. ‘Just water. Thanks.’

Julia soon returned, this time choosing to sit next to him on the banquette. Disconcerted, Gus nevertheless welcomed the glass of water she handed him, which this time had twists of lemon and lime in it.

‘Thanks,’ he murmured, taking a long drink. It tasted a bit odd, but he was thirsty enough to ignore it—although he did set the citrus slices aside.

‘If it’s any consolation, Gus, it isn’t you. Holly’s shy of commitment. This is by no means the first time that she’s led a man on and given him false hope,’ Julia informed him sadly, the scarlet-tipped fingers of one hand coming to rest on his jean-clad thigh. ‘I think it stems from her engagement all those years ago.’

Diverting his attention from her unwanted touch, Julia’s latest revelation delivered another hammer blow. Gus reeled, turning to Julia in shock.

‘Holly was very young—still a teenager,’ she continued, looking into his eyes, her own gleaming large and wistful. ‘She and Euan were childhood sweethearts—Euan was besotted with her. At the eleventh hour Holly dumped him. Aside from the embarrassment of cancelling arrangements, returning presents and explaining to everyone, Euan was devastated.’ She paused a moment, her expression sombre. ‘There was no reasoning with Holly. She refused to talk with Euan again. Since then she’s done what she’s doing with you … allowed men to get close, only to back off when they want to take things further.’

The engagement was another thing Holly had failed to tell him about. Why? If he was to believe her sister, it was all Holly’s fault. He didn’t want it to be true … it was contrary to all he had thought Holly to be. But after this evening he couldn’t help but wonder who Holly really was and if she’d fooled him completely.

Gus ran a hand through his hair in agitation, wishing his head would clear as he struggled to reconcile what Julia had told him with the Holly he had thought he knew. Feeling increasingly fuzzy-headed and out of sorts, he took another drink.

‘Poor Gus,’ Julia sympathised, leaning closer and resting her arm around his shoulder. ‘This is the last thing you need when you’re feeling so ill. Holly should be here, caring for you.’

‘I’m OK,’ he refuted, frowning in confusion as he heard himself slurring the words. What was wrong with him? He felt worse now than when the virus had been at its most virulent.

With a wry laugh, Julia gave him a hug. ‘Sure you are.’

‘I’m used to being alone.’

‘Me, too,’ Julia confided, all trace of humour gone. ‘And that’s so sad … for both of us.’ She paused, head tilted to one side as she studied him. ‘You should be in bed, Gus. Come on, I’ll help you to your room.’

Finding it difficult to focus on anything, Gus felt too ill to argue. He craved the sanctuary of his room, and allowed Julia to assist him as he summoned his last reserves of energy and struggled to his feet, swaying alarmingly. Julia remained at his side, holding him steady, and he draped an arm around her to brace himself.

He vaguely remembered walking unsteadily out of the bar, but he had no recollection of the journey down the pub’s corridor, nor the arrival at his room. Nor did he have any memories of what had happened next. Only that he’d woken in the morning with a thudding headache, horrified to find that not only was Julia real, and not a figment of his fevered imagination, but she was curled up next to him in bed … and both of them were naked.

Edging away from her, he’d flung an arm across his sore eyes and stifled a groan, a rush of confusion, guilt and self-disgust sweeping through him. The virus, pills and disappointment over Holly’s rejection were not sufficient excuses for his behaviour. And he’d compounded that bad behaviour by pretending to be asleep when Julia stirred so he wouldn’t have to face her. Thankfully she’d seemed as keen as he to avoid a post-mortem as she’d risen and swiftly dressed before quietly letting herself out of his room.

He hadn’t wanted to talk with Julia, but that had been as nothing compared to his reluctance at the thought of seeing Holly—of not only dealing with what he had done, but confronting her about her rejection and the various things she had kept from him. A fresh wave of nausea had assailed him.

Illness had kept him in bed and away from work for another twenty-four hours. Had he known in advance how terrible his return to A&E and the scene with Holly were going to be, he might have stayed in bed for ever.

He’d certainly had no idea how horribly that wretched night would come back to haunt him, destroying his relationship with Holly and resulting in the announcement that Julia was expecting his child. An announcement that had led him into an unwanted, loveless marriage with only months to prepare for his unexpected role as a father.

It had terrified him

It still did, he acknowledged, reality slamming him back to the present. For now he had to push all the pain and emotion of the past from his mind and focus on the baby. His baby—for whom he had sacrificed himself and endured months of unhappiness.

With Julia.

Without Holly.

He listened as Shaun Haggerty responded to Holly’s suggestion about the baby’s prematurity. ‘We will, of course, continue to observe him closely.’

‘You said there was another problem?’ Gus prompted, grateful they were moving on from the awkward issue of conception.

‘Yes.’ The consultant opened a file, glancing at something before looking up again, apology in his eyes. ‘I don’t like to press you on such things at this distressing time, but my concern is your son’s health. So I need to ask … Was your wife drinking during her pregnancy?’

Gus sat back in shock, totally unprepared for the question. ‘No! Absolutely not,’ he refuted, a sick feeling in his stomach.

There was much about Julia he didn’t know. There had been times when her mercurial temper and unpredictable mood swings had made life especially difficult. But surely he would have noticed something so far amiss?

‘There’s no alcohol in the house. I don’t drink, and I never saw Julia drink after she knew she was expecting a child,’ he continued, feeling the gentle squeeze of Holly’s fingers. ‘She found pregnancy difficult—she was quite ill. And she gave up smoking, too. She knew her health was important for the baby.’

Or so he’d thought.

Mr Haggerty nodded and wrote a note in the file, but his frown remained. ‘I had to ask, Gus, I’m sorry. There was an almost empty bottle of gin in the car, and tests have revealed that Julia was more than three times over the drink-drive limit. We need to know if this was a one-off aberration or something that might have a longer-term effect on your baby. There’s no evidence of foetal alcohol syndrome, but we’re running tests to be on the safe side.’

Gus swore under his breath. He was stunned. And angry. Julia had relied on him to take her wherever she’d wanted to go, claiming she didn’t drive, so he had no idea why and how she’d taken his car—or where she’d been. The news that she’d been irresponsible enough to drink excessively before getting behind the wheel astounded and infuriated him. It was bad enough that she’d brought about her own injuries, but to risk the life of others, including her unborn child, was unforgivable.

He met Holly’s gaze and saw the dismay and concern in her sky-blue eyes. They both knew what long-term alcohol consumption could do to a growing baby, and he hoped with all his heart that Julia’s rash behaviour that day was the aberration the consultant suggested and nothing worse. His son had enough to battle against without inherited alcohol problems on top.

Whatever else had occurred between them, and however hard things had been in recent months, he knew he’d been diligent in his care of both Julia and the baby. But he hadn’t been there twenty-four hours a day. Nor had he been Julia’s keeper. He’d trusted her to keep her side of the bargain … that she’d do all she could to protect herself and their unborn child. Now that trust had been broken in the worst possible way.

‘I want to see my son,’ he announced gruffly, releasing Holly’s hand and rising impatiently to his feet.

‘Of course. And you will … very soon,’ the consultant placated him, gesturing back to the chair. ‘If you can bear with me a little longer, Gus? I know this isn’t easy for you, or for Holly, but I have to ask you about Julia.’

Unsettled, and overwhelmed by the myriad emotions fighting inside him, Gus reluctantly sat down again, feeling bereft without the comfort of Holly’s hand in his. He was alarmed that he’d felt the once-familiar kick in the gut and tingle down the spine when he’d looked at her. He felt guilty for his response to Holly, and even guiltier for begrudging Mr Haggerty the time he wanted to spend talking about Julia. On a human level he felt deep shock and sadness for her, but the only thing driving him on was a desperation to see his son.

He met Holly’s gaze, unable to read her thoughts. She was clearly deeply affected by events—her support had been genuine—but he was less able to gauge her feelings about her older sister. They’d not been close. He smothered a humourless laugh at the understatement. He understood little of the complex situation between the two women—a situation he’d been unwittingly drawn into.

Not that he was in any position to judge the level of Holly’s grief for Julia. He felt the pressing weight of guilt and shame as he forced himself to admit the truth. That whilst he would never have wished this tragedy on Julia, the primary rush of emotion he’d experienced was not grief, as everyone assumed, but relief.

Relief at being freed from the loveless, lonely marriage they’d endured these last months … months when they’d played their roles well enough to convince those around them that their relationship was real.

Holly had no idea what Gus was thinking, but when she felt the full force of his smoky green gaze on her she was unable to prevent a quiver of reaction. Her hand still tingled from his touch. She’d been unable to resist the urge to reach out to him, driven by the emotion in his voice when he’d learned about his son. Fresh tears stung her eyes as she recalled the way he’d responded, taking her hand, linking their fingers and holding on tight, creating a shared bond between them … one that had seemed so natural months ago but which now left her confused and puzzled.

Gus looked away, releasing her from his magnetic hold. A ragged breath whispered from her. Without the comfort of holding his hand she felt bereft and alone. The shock of all that had happened was taking its toll, and the tension between Gus and herself made everything more difficult. She was still angry at the way he’d so publicly rejected her and made her the centre of gossip. The pain and betrayal at the knowledge of Julia’s pregnancy had never lessened. Now the baby was here, having survived a traumatic birth, and she was swamped by a rush of conflicting emotions.

After months of attempting to put distance between them, the last thing she wanted was to spend time with Gus again, and yet her first instinct on learning of the tragedy had been to run to him. Clasping her shaking hands together, Holly glanced at Gus. They’d been united by events and a shared concern for the baby, and somehow she had to find a way of putting her jumbled feelings about Gus aside.

Gus remained silent and remote, so Holly forced herself to ask the question that was hanging in the air. ‘Wh-What about Julia?’

Mr Haggerty sighed and shook his head. ‘There’s no hope for her, I’m afraid. As I explained, her injuries were so severe that, had it not been for signs of life from the baby, she would have been declared dead at the scene of the accident. In order to save the baby and maintain his oxygen and blood-flow, she was placed on life support. We’d like your permission to turn that off. But first there’s the delicate issue of asking you to consider the possibility of organ donation. I appreciate how difficult it is, but you know time is critical. My advice, for what it’s worth, is to look to the future … to the miracle of this baby,’ the older man finished with sympathy.

‘Holly, what do you want to do?’ Gus asked gruffly, taking her by surprise by including her. ‘Did Julia express her views to you on donating?’

‘I know she didn’t carry a donor card, but we never discussed it. Personally I’m fully in favour of giving someone on the transplant waiting list the chance of a better life, but I’ll support whatever decision you make,’ she told him, conscious that helping others had never been a high priority for her sister.

‘Like Holly, I support the donor programme. Let’s hope that along with the baby some good can come from this tragedy.’ A silence stretched heavily for a long moment before Gus continued, his voice raw. ‘I think we should take medical advice and let Julia rest in peace.’

Holly was relieved they were on the same wavelength—on this, at least. ‘I agree. It’s the right thing to do, Gus.’

‘I know it isn’t an easy decision, but I hope the knowledge that other people’s lives will be saved might help a little,’ Mr Haggerty offered, scribbling notes in the file. ‘And I can assure you Julia will be treated with every care and respect.’

‘Thank you.’ Gus’s tone was stiff and guarded. ‘Will there need to be an official identification?’

Holly sucked in a breath. This was something she hadn’t thought about. She glanced at Gus but could read none of his emotions. What must this be doing to him? And how could he bear it if he had to identify Julia? There and then she decided that if he was called on to perform the task he would not be doing it alone. It was the last thing she wanted, but she would be there for him—even though his pain and grief over Julia twisted the knife ever more cruelly inside her.

‘As I said, the police will be speaking with you and helping you through the aftermath of this dreadful event. There’ll be a routine investigation, and you’ll be kept informed of the outcome,’ the consultant told them, rolling his pen in his fingers. ‘But you won’t be asked to identify her. The police are satisfied with the chain of evidence … and I’m sad to say the accident has rendered her facially unrecognisable.’

Although relieved that she and Gus would be spared one trauma, Holly wrestled with the disturbing reality of Julia’s injuries. What a tragic irony that in death her sister had lost the thing she’d most valued in life—her looks. She couldn’t bear to think of the horror Julia had experienced, or how much she might have known and suffered. However bad their relationship, however much Julia had hurt her, and however much she’d hated her sister’s betrayals—most recently and painfully with Gus—she would never have wished such a devastating accident on her.

‘Does Julia have any unique distinguishing marks?’

Mr Haggerty’s question drew Holly from her thoughts. To her surprise Gus remained silent, his gaze averted, and realising he must be in shock, and had no intention of answering, she spoke up. ‘There’s her tattoo.’

‘A tattoo? Can you describe it?’ the consultant asked, raising one thick dark eyebrow.

‘Julia had it done at sixteen as an act of rebellion,’ Holly explained. A shiver ran through her as she recalled the uproar her sister had joyfully provoked over the tattoo. ‘There were big rows—especially with our father. It’s of a mouth—scarlet lips, shaped as if blowing a kiss—and there are words around it.’

‘What words? And where is the tattoo?’ Mr Haggerty queried, making notes.

A soft bloom of colour pinkened her cheeks. ‘It’s on her right buttock, and the words read “Kiss my butt”,’ she admitted with a nervous laugh, her blush deepening.

‘Very distinctive,’ Mr Haggerty replied, with a small smile of his own.

The brief moment of unexpected and embarrassed humour failed to lessen the tension that hung in the room, and Holly felt increasingly conscious of Gus’s brooding presence. Gus, who had hurt her so badly and who, despite everything, she could not abandon, even though his grief for her sister and the reality of their baby only magnified her own pain.

Holly jumped as the shrill sound of a pager broke the silence.

‘That’s mine,’ Mr Haggerty confirmed. ‘Excuse me a moment.’

As he reached for the phone on the desk and made a quick call Holly met Gus’s gaze, her heart squeezing at the distant, withdrawn look in his gorgeous green eyes. The chasm between them seemed more intimidating than ever. The days ahead would be difficult, and with no idea what the future held in store she felt anxious and uncertain.

‘There’ll be other questions, I’m sure, but I think we’ve covered all we need to for now,’ the consultant said softly, putting down the phone and closing the file. ‘That was my registrar calling from PICU. They’ve finished the current tests and the baby is now settled and stable.’

‘Thank God.’

Gus’s heartfelt words and the shimmer of moisture in his eyes made Holly’s chest tighten. Her voice wavered as she asked the question she knew Gus wanted answered as urgently as she did. ‘Can we see him now?’

‘Of course,’ Mr Haggerty allowed, standing up and rounding the desk.

As Gus rose swiftly to his feet Holly followed suit, disconcerted by the frown he shot towards her. What was he thinking? Was he cross about the moment of laughter over Julia’s tattoo? Or didn’t he want her to see the baby? Filled with stubborn determination, she raised her chin in challenge. However difficult it proved to be, and however much it deepened her own pain and sense of emptiness, no one—not even Gus—would keep her from her nephew.

After offering his condolences and his continuing support, Mr Haggerty shook their hands. Then, smiling broadly for the first time, he opened the door and issued the longed-for invitation.

‘Gus, it’s time for you to meet your son.’




CHAPTER FOUR


‘HE IS so beautiful.’

Gus couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that formed at the awed reverence in Holly’s softly spoken words—words she had repeated countless times since they’d entered the Paediatric Intensive Care Unit and met his son.

His son.

He would never forget the moment he’d looked at and held his child for the first time. He’d thought his heart would burst right out of his chest, and his eyes had stung with uncharacteristic tears. That the baby was stable and robust enough to be picked up had been a joyful surprise. At first he’d been terrified of hurting or dropping him, his hands seeming too large and clumsy, but he’d soon adjusted and had felt the same kind of awe and amazement Holly had expressed.




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