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The Baby They Longed For
Marion Lennox


One night in the surgeon’s arms…One miraculous surprise!Obstetrician Addie and surgeon Noah’s relationship has always been…complicated—since he broke the news that her fiancé had jilted her! Years later, finding themselves working and living together, they both agree to keep things professional. Until one intense day leads to one magical night, resulting in a miracle neither believed possible! Now they must put the past behind them if they want to build a future…together.







One night in the surgeon’s arms...

One miraculous surprise!

Obstetrician Addie and surgeon Noah’s relationship has always been...complicated since he broke the news that her fiancé had jilted her! Years later, finding themselves working and living together, they both agree to keep things professional. Until one intense day leads to one magical night, resulting in the miracle neither ever believed possible! Now they must put the past behind them if they want to build a future...together.


MARION LENNOX has written over one hundred romance novels, and is published in over one hundred countries and thirty languages. Her international awards include the prestigious RITA® award (twice!) and the RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award for ‘a body of work which makes us laugh and teaches us about love’. Marion adores her family, her kayak, her dog, and lying on the beach with a book someone else has written. Heaven!


Also by Marion Lennox (#ucf563f04-7168-5633-bb32-9f9c96642400)

Meant-To-Be Family

From Christmas to Forever?

Saving Maddie’s Baby

A Child to Open Their Hearts

Falling for Her Wounded Hero

Stranded with the Secret Billionaire

Reunited with Her Surgeon Prince

The Billionaire’s Christmas Baby

Finding His Wife, Finding a Son

English Lord on Her Doorstep

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).


The Baby They Longed For

Marion Lennox






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


ISBN: 978-1-474-08974-6

THE BABY THEY LONGED FOR

© 2019 Marion Lennox

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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


Contents

Cover (#ua578a6af-32b4-580d-8479-489db3889d9e)

Back Cover Text (#u96ce644c-284f-5903-84c7-0bfed2c740d0)

About the Author (#uaf450786-f4b7-559a-9127-12bf4e1c21e5)

Booklist (#uc8889c21-5783-52d8-ac8f-e6f409d73afd)

Title Page (#u689efa89-1ad3-530a-8813-50cd20a54848)

Copyright (#u1d331c39-0c24-5300-8a0f-8272fc1e0f31)

CHAPTER ONE (#u2ec64368-12a0-5cf9-9a61-c5bdbd06de36)

CHAPTER TWO (#u097eee57-b731-591a-97f4-062936fcf633)

CHAPTER THREE (#u0f9647a8-fb14-55fa-a017-99b23ec6b9b1)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)




CHAPTER ONE (#ucf563f04-7168-5633-bb32-9f9c96642400)


HAPPY IS THE bride the sun shines on.

Happier still was the bride’s mother.

Addie’s mum had been beaming ever since she’d read the weather forecast. Actually, she’d been beaming from the moment Addie and Gavin had announced their engagement.

Dr Adeline Blair should be beaming, too, but right now she was struggling. In truth, Addie seemed so far away from her normal, workaday self it was like she’d moved into another body.

She didn’t belong...here?

Why? Surely everything was perfect. She was about to marry her childhood sweetheart. She was making her mother gloriously happy. With luck, she and Gavin might even have a baby before...

Don’t go there. Not today.

She glanced sideways at her mum, sitting beside her in the bridal limousine. Cancer. Metastases. Maeve seemed well today, but tomorrow...

No.

‘This is the happiest day of my life,’ Maeve breathed, and Addie hugged her—which, considering the amount of tulle she was wearing, plus the weight of her over-the-top veil, took some doing.

The car pulled to a stop. The church looked picture-postcard perfect. An arch of roses framed the entrance. Guests were presumably tucked up inside, waiting for the arrival of the bride. A photographer stood ready.

Addie had no extra attendants, no bridesmaids. Her mother was being bridal attendant as well as giving her away, an all-in-one package.

In some ways, it was almost her mother’s wedding.

‘Oh, Addie.’ As the chauffeur opened the car doors, her mother’s eyes were like stars. ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’

And Addie finally relaxed. Her mother was happy. Gavin was waiting. She knew she loved him—she always had. The reservations that had prevented this happening years ago were surely dumb.

This was as good as she could make it.

But then...

She lifted the load of tulle from around her ankles, swung herself out of the car—and straight into Noah McPherson.

Noah. Surgical consultant at Sydney Central. Gavin’s immediate boss.

Gav’s best man.

Noah was tall, dark and imposing in his beautifully cut dinner suit. He was in his early thirties but his skill and gravitas made him seem older. Addie saw lots of gravitas now.

Why wasn’t he with Gav?

‘What’s...what’s wrong?’ she managed, but she knew almost before she spoke.

‘Gav can’t do it.’

‘Can’t do...what?’

She couldn’t believe this. She was standing in brilliant sunshine, in her fairy-floss dress, and she was asking a question she already knew the answer to. She’d known the answer since she’d seen Noah.

‘Gav says he can’t marry you,’ Noah said, quite gently. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Silence.

There should be bells, Addie thought, almost hysterically. Her mother and Gav’s mother had organised bell-ringers. Addie had paid for them.

Maybe the bells had moved to her head. She felt like it was about to explode.

Gavin was...jilting her? This wasn’t real.It didn’t happen.

It couldn’t happen.

‘I... Did he give you any explanation?’ She was weirdly proud that she’d got the question out without gibbering.

‘He did. But you don’t want to hear it now.’

‘Tell me,’ she commanded.

Whoa...

Once upon a time Adeline Blair had had a temper, but not now. She’d had years of living in a house where every outburst would be greeted with, ‘Oh, Addie, what would your father say? You’ll break my heart even more.’ Her mother’s tears had pretty much shoved Addie’s temper into a dark cellar, tethered it with chains and left it to its own devices.

But right now she could feel the chains snapping. ‘Tell me,’ she hissed again, and Noah flinched.

‘Addie, we can do this later. We can find somewhere private—’

‘I need to know now. Tell me why.’

He took a deep breath and visibly braced. ‘Gav said...all his life he’s been ruled by women. Their grief and their need. And now your mum’s ill... He couldn’t tell you. He didn’t wish you—or your mother or his—any more unhappiness, but he’s decided that he can’t keep on being needed. He wants his own life.’

‘His own life.’

‘That’s what he said.’

‘So he’s decided...’ Temper or not, she was struggling to find her voice. She had to try a couple of times before she succeeded. ‘He decided to wait to tell me until five minutes before he was due to marry me? And then he didn’t even tell me himself?’ She was fighting rising hysteria. Stay calm, she told herself, but herself refused to listen.

‘I guess... Look, would you like me to drive you anywhere?’

‘Go jump,’ she hissed. ‘He didn’t even have the courage to phone?’

‘He thought you’d talk him out of it.’ He considered his words. ‘Or into it. Whatever.’

‘He sees me as what...the enemy?’

‘Maybe you need to see it from his point of view.’ It seemed like Noah was trying to make this whole scenario logical. ‘He says you depend on him. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he feels like he’s been blackmailed by your mother’s illness. By your need.’

What the... ‘He w-wants to m-marry me,’ she stammered. ‘He’s been asking me almost once a week since I was seven.’

‘Maybe he thought you’d never say yes. I don’t know. All I know is that he’s finally realised that he can’t go through with it. He says he can’t be controlled any more by what he calls...’

‘What he calls what?’ She didn’t recognise herself. She didn’t recognise the anger.

‘Addie...’

‘What d-did he call me?’ Addie stammered.

‘Not only you. I think it’s you, your mum, his mum.’

‘So what did he call...us?’

‘This isn’t helpful.’

‘Say it.’

He sighed—and then he said it. ‘He called you...a monstrous regiment of women.’

Silence.

People were starting to make their way out of the church, wondering what was happening. Rebecca was way out front. Rebecca was Noah’s wife, wheelchair bound and beautiful beyond belief. She was also the source of any vitriolic hospital gossip she could find. Right now her face was alive with speculation. Pleasure?

All their hospital friends were behind her.

Gavin’s mum was with them. Lorna looked appalled.

Her mum was beside her, looking ashen.

‘You’ve been with Gav for the entire morning, listening to this drivel,’ Addie managed at last, struggling to keep her voice from being heard by anyone else. ‘He doesn’t want to be needed? I’ve cared for his mum as well as mine, for as long as I can remember. And now... You work with me and you didn’t even have the decency to warn me...’

The chains were definitely snapped now, and her package of temper, bundled up and controlled for all these years, was suddenly running amuck. All she could see was crimson.

‘Addie, I’m sorry.’

‘Of course you’re sorry,’ she said, distantly now. ‘That’s why everyone’s heading this way. Everyone’s sorry. Oh, and here’s Rebecca, ready to soak up every detail. Explain it to your wife, will you. And everyone else. A monstrous regiment of women? His mum? My mum? Me?’

‘Addie...’ He put a hand on her shoulder.

And then Adeline Blair did what she’d never done in her life and would never do again.

She struck his hand, and, as he didn’t release her, she shoved away. And as he instinctively held on—to comfort, maybe, who knew?—she reached out and slapped his smug, sorry face, a slap so hard the sound rang out over the churchyard to the town beyond.

And Dr Adeline Blair, dutiful daughter, doting fiancée, or ex-fiancée, jilted bride—oh, and obstetrician as well—hitched up her bridal gown, tugged off her veil and kicked off her stupid satin shoes.

‘Look after Mum,’ she called over her shoulder to Gavin’s mother, because even then she was a dutiful daughter.

And then she ran.




CHAPTER TWO (#ucf563f04-7168-5633-bb32-9f9c96642400)

Three years later


‘WE’RE VERY GLAD to welcome you to the staff. Six months is great. Have you seen enough of the hospital? Terrific set-up, isn’t it? Let’s show you to the doctors’ residence and get you settled.’

Noah had looked at this place on the internet and liked what he’d seen. Now, in reality, the hospital met his expectations and more. It was small but it seemed excellent.

Currawong Bay was two hours’ drive from Sydney, tucked between mountains and sea on New South Wales’ south coast. It was a hazardous drive to the next major medical centre, or a fast helicopter flight if weather conditions permitted, so the hospital was geared to independence. For the last few weeks that independence had been compromised. They’d been lacking a surgeon.

Luckily the role of temporary surgeon was a job Noah needed. It was six months before his court case could be heard. Until then he had no access to his daughter.

No. Seven-year-old Sophie was not his daughter, he told himself, for what must surely be the thousandth time. She was the daughter of his ex-wife and he had no legal claim.

But how could he stop caring for a child he’d loved since she was a toddler? He couldn’t, which was why he’d needed to leave Sydney. He needed a busy, hands-on workload to keep him sane.

‘There’s only one other occupant in our doctors’ house.’ Henry, the hospital’s middle-aged administrator, was bluff and genial. ‘But the house is good. Because of our isolation we’re often dependent on locums, and this helps attract them. The place is set up to give privacy. It’s right on site. You can share the living rooms, or stick to your own rooms if you wish to be by yourself.’

‘Who’s living there now?’ He hadn’t planned on sharing at all. The advertisement had said self-contained quarters. How did that fit?

‘Our obstetrician.’ Henry seemed oblivious to his qualms. ‘She’s been here for almost three years now and because of the nature of her work the doctors’ house is a good fit. Hopefully she’ll be home now. Come through and I’ll introduce you.’

But then Henry’s phone rang. He took the call, glancing out at the gorgeous day outside. When the call ended he sighed but the sigh didn’t sound too unhappy. ‘Sorry, Noah, but there’s been a hitch. One of my golfing mates forgot his anniversary tonight, so tee off has been brought forward.’

It was Saturday afternoon. The bay was a glistening sheet of sapphire, the golf course lying enticingly in the distance. This had to be one of the most beautiful places for a hospital in the world. Henry’s choice was obvious.

‘If you head down the veranda and across the walkway, third door on your left, you’ll find everything you need,’ he said hurriedly. ‘You’re expected. Introduce yourself and make yourself at home. Settle in, explore the bay, do what you want until we start throwing work at you on Monday. By the way, do you play golf? No? Shame. Gotta go, though. Welcome to Currawong.’

He was gone and Noah was left to his own devices.

Which suited him fine.

He walked out to the veranda and took a few moments to soak in the view. This was a good decision, he thought. A busy country hospital in a beautiful place. All types of surgery. A great place to live until the courts came down on his side.

Please...

Meanwhile he had a housemate.

That wasn’t great. He’d prefer to be by himself. He needed to get his head sorted.

To prepare himself for losing Sophie?

He walked slowly along the veranda, taking time to appreciate the wicker armchairs set out for recuperating patients to sit in the sun and admire the view to the beach beyond. The doctors’ accommodation was linked to the hospital by a breezeway, a separate house, simple, wooden, with wide French windows opening to the sea.

A window at the far end was open, the curtains wafting out in the breeze.

He reached the door, raised his hand to knock and then paused.

A moan... Stifled. Coming from the window at the end.

Was his housemate ill?

Knocking and demanding entrance if she was vomiting didn’t seem such a great idea.

The glass doors led to what looked like a living room. No one was inside. He tried the door and found it unlocked.

The house was old-fashioned, furnished for comfort rather than style, with high ceilings, worn wooden floors and faded rugs. The living room was full of overstuffed furniture, big, comfortable, homey.

A vase of crimson poppies sat on the sideboard. They still had a band around their stems, looking like whoever had put them in the vase hadn’t had the energy to let them free. He looked around, liking what he saw—and then there was another groan.

Uh-oh. This wasn’t a gastro-type groan. He’d been a doctor long enough to differentiate.

This was pain. Sharp pain.

And even as he thought it, the door opened. A woman stood framed in the doorway, slight, mousy-brown hair, heavy glasses, wearing a faded nightgown.

Clutching her stomach.

‘Who—?’ She stopped at what was obviously her bedroom door and seemed to gather strength. ‘Who...?’

‘I’m Noah McPherson.’ He frowned with concern. She was bending with pain, and while he watched, one hand went from her stomach to her shoulder. ‘Surgeon.’

‘Surgeon,’ she gasped. And then she paused and tried to focus. ‘Oh, hell... Noah?’

And he got it. He’d worked with her. He’d watched her as a jilted bride. She’d slapped him, hard.

‘Addie,’ he said blankly.

But she was no longer listening. She was clutching her side, focussing inward. ‘Noah...’ She struggled to find words. ‘Oh, help. Noah, I don’t want... Of all the people... But I think I need...’ Her knees seemed to buckle and she dropped to a crouch.

And any confusion he was feeling faded in the face of medical need. He stooped before her, pushing the tangle of curls back from her eyes. ‘What’s happening? Addie, tell me.’

‘I think... No, I know that I’m pregnant,’ she gasped, struggling to breathe. ‘Test...positive. Ten weeks. I haven’t had an ultrasound yet but now...pain like you wouldn’t believe. My shoulder hurts. And... I’ve started... I’ve started to bleed. I’ve had...endometriosis. It’s a risk and these are classic symptoms. I think my pregnancy’s ectopic. I want her so much. Oh, Noah, I’m losing my baby.’

* * *

His brief tour of the hospital with Henry had been enough for him to find the right people, fast, and without exception Currawong Bay’s nursing staff were appalled.

No one seemed to have guessed Addie was pregnant. From the orderly who came running to help him get her across to the hospital, to the nurses, even to the hospital cook who appeared from the kitchen because she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard, they were horrified.

Noah was horrified himself, but he had to put his dismay on the backburner. The hospital used the town’s family doctors as backup. They could care for their own patients when they were in hospital, but it seemed none had specific surgical training.

If this was indeed an ectopic pregnancy, then this was his call.

‘I need...a scan,’ Addie breathed as they wheeled her along the veranda.

‘I’m onto it,’ he told her. He touched her face, lightly, in an attempt at reassurance. ‘Addie, let me do the worrying. You know I’m a surgeon. I might not know as much as you do about pregnancy complications but I know enough to cope with this. Trust me?’

‘I... Yes.’ And she caught his hand. For a moment he thought it was to push it away but instead it turned into a death grip as more pain hit. ‘I don’t...have a choice.’

She didn’t. It was, indeed, an ectopic pregnancy.

A scan showed an embryo growing in the right fallopian tube rather than the womb. Such pregnancies were doomed from the start, and internal bleeding was now threatening her life.

He didn’t have to explain it to Addie. She watched the screen with him, her face racked with distress. Pain relief was kicking in. The nurses were prepped, the theatre was ready but they were waiting for the anaesthetist. Apparently he was on his way, pulled from his son’s football game.

‘I wanted this baby so much,’ she breathed. ‘Oh, Noah... I have endometriosis. Scarring. If the other tube’s damaged...’

She’d know the odds. Rupture meant an increased risk of future infertility, and if she already suffered from endometriosis the odds were even worse. It was a hard call, treating a doctor, Noah thought. It was impossible to reassure her when she knew the facts.

She’d also know that he was a second-best doctor right now. What she needed was a specialist obstetrician, and the hospital had only one. Addie.

But if Noah hadn’t decided to come a couple of days early there wouldn’t be any surgeon within an hour’s reach. For the first time Noah was hit with the drama of country medical practice. Him or no one.

‘Please...’ Addie was weeping in her distress. Once more her hand caught his. ‘I know I’ve lost my baby but I can’t...please, I can’t be infertile.’

‘I’ll do what I can,’ he said gently. ‘Addie, you know I can make no promises.’ He was administering pre-meds, willing the unknown anaesthetist to hurry.

‘You can repair the tube.’ Her voice was blurred from the drugs and pain and shock. ‘You must. Please.’

He knew he couldn’t. So must she if she was thinking straight. If they’d caught things before the rupture then maybe but now...

‘Addie, you know...’

‘I do,’ she whispered. ‘But please... I’m sorry I slapped you.’

And that made him smile. Of all things to be thinking... ‘If I’d been you that day, I might have slapped me, too.’

‘It should have been Gav.’ She took a deep breath, fighting for strength, but there was still spirit. ‘To let me get to the church... Toe rags, both of you.’

‘We were indeed toe rags,’ he said gravely. ‘Addie, is there anyone we should be contacting? You need some support. Your mum?’ He hesitated. ‘The baby’s father?’

‘No.’ It was a harsh snap.

He wanted to stop but he had to know. Addie was suffering internal bleeding. Where the hell was the anaesthetist? If they didn’t get in soon... ‘Addie, we need next of kin at least.’

‘Next of kin’s this baby.’

‘Addie...’

‘There’s no one,’ she snapped. ‘Mum died three years ago. Gav’s mother doesn’t speak to me, and Gav’s long gone. And this baby’s father is a number from a sperm bank. So if I die on the operating table feel free to donate everything to the local cats’ home. But, oh, Noah...’ Her voice shattered on a sob and her grip on his hand tightened. He was no friend but he knew her from the past and it seemed that right now he was all she had.

‘You will... The tubes... You will try.’

‘I will.’

‘Despite the slap.’

‘Maybe even a little because of the slap,’ he said ruefully. ‘You were treated appallingly that day.’

And then he looked up as a redheaded beanpole burst through the door.

‘Hey,’ the beanpole said, heading for Noah and holding out his hand in greeting. ‘You’ll be our new surgeon. Noah? I’m Cliff Brooks, anaesthetist.’ He grasped Noah’s hand and then turned his attention to the patient. And stilled in shock. ‘What the...? Addie!’

‘It’s ectopic,’ Addie said weakly. ‘I’m... I was... Oh, Cliff, it’s ectopic.’

‘Bugger,’ Cliff said, and then added a couple more expletives for good measure. ‘We didn’t even know... I’m so sorry, love.’ He then proceeded to be entirely unprofessional by stooping and giving Addie a hug.

‘Hell, Ad, this is the pits but don’t worry. I’ll be watching our new surgeon every step of the way. Let’s get you into Theatre and get things cleared. And if you want to be pregnant... This’ll just be a blip. Maryanne had two miscarriages before she had Michael, and now we have four boys. Hiccups are what happens when you start a family. Don’t cry, love, don’t cry.’

So he hugged and Noah turned away and headed for the sinks. He felt like he’d felt on Addie’s wedding day. Helpless. And...he had no right to comfort her, so why did it seem so wrong that it wasn’t him who did the hugging?

* * *

An ectopic pregnancy was always a grief. Growing in the fallopian tubes instead of in the womb, there was no chance a baby could survive. Someday someone might figure a way such a pregnancy could be transplanted to the womb, Noah thought, but that day was a long way off.

By the time of the rupture, the embryo was lifeless. The pressure was on to save the mother. Preserving fertility had to come second. When a woman had a complete family and there was no need to try and make future pregnancies viable, the surgery was much simpler but now... Noah was calling on skills he barely had.

Cliff was good. Noah had checked out the credentials of his anaesthetist before taking on the job, but he’d never worked with him. The fact that he was personally involved could have been a worry, but from the moment he’d released Addie from the hug Cliff had turned pure professional.

‘You focus on your end. Leave everything else to me,’ Cliff growled, and at least Noah could stop thinking about blood pressure, about the logistics of keeping a haemorrhaging patient alive, and focus purely on the technical.

Except he couldn’t quite, because this was Addie.

Separation of personal to professional...how hard was that? He’d glanced at Cliff as Addie had slipped under, and he’d seen grimness in the man’s expression. He wasn’t the only one caught in personal distress for the woman they were operating on.

But why did he feel like this?

In truth he’d only had a working relationship, with Gavin as well as Addie. He’d been Gavin’s boss but he’d been surprised to be asked to be best man. Gavin had obviously kept his life compartmentalised. Work, home and stuff-that-no-one-was-to-know-about. Until after the wedding fiasco when the hospital grapevine had practically exploded.

Addie had kept to herself, too, but where Gavin’s lesser-known compartment had turned out to be spectacular, Addie’s seemed anything but. The grapevine said that she worked and she looked after her mother. At the hospital she and Noah had occasionally operated or consulted together, but he’d thought her quiet, almost mousy. Technically skilled. Conscientious. Nothing special.

He’d operated on colleagues before, men and women he’d known far better than this. So now...why was it so hard to block out the thought of Addie’s distress, the sight of her face, bleached by fear and shock?

He had to block it out. Her life depended on it.

The first part of the surgery was straightforward. An incision, finding the source of the bleeding, removing the unviable pregnancy. There was inflammation around it, and bleeding from the rupture.

‘Possible to do a salpingotomy?’ Cliff queried as Noah cleared and tried to see what he was left with.

Salpingotomy was the removal of the damaged embryo and then microscopic repair and preservation of the fallopian tube. He looked at the damage under his hands and shook his head. Such microscopic surgery took real obstetric skill, skills he wasn’t sure he possessed. There wasn’t time to transfer her to Sydney for a specialist obstetric surgeon to take over, but even if there had been...

‘Not possible,’ he growled. ‘There’s too much damage to preserve it.’ It had to be a salpingectomy, the complete removal of the tube. ‘Future fertility rates aren’t so different,’ he muttered, talking to himself rather than to Cliff.

Cliff gave him a searching look and then nodded and went back to his monitors.

There was the sound of a sob from somewhere behind him—from one of the nurses.

So Addie was loved? She’d been working in this hospital for three years. A small hospital where people had come to know her.

He worked on, but as he did he was increasingly aware of the tension around him.

‘We didn’t even know she was pregnant,’ the theatre nurse, Heidi, a woman in her fifties, muttered as he completed the removal of the damaged tube. ‘There’s never been a hint of a guy. She’s been going back and forth to Sydney but only ever overnight. She never takes holidays. We thought...’ She swallowed, biting back what she thought. ‘The other tube?’

‘Looks good,’ he muttered, and felt a ripple of relief through the theatre.

‘It’s still awful.’ Heidi was still looking distressed. ‘Chances of successful pregnancy after...’

‘It’s better than death,’ Cliff said roughly. ‘The chances aren’t zero. Leave it, Heidi. We all need to be positive, for Addie’s sake.’

Noah was closing, carefully ensuring everything that could be done was done. If he’d been able to preserve the tube Addie would be facing constant monitoring over the next few weeks, to ensure there was no further growth in the tube, but at least now it was straightforward.

She’d recover. She’d get on with life.

Just as she had after the wedding, he thought. Just as she had after being humiliated to the socks, standing jilted at a church with everyone she loved around her.

Everyone she loved?

Who loved Addie?

It was none of his business, he told himself. Addie was now a recovering patient. His patient. He needed to invoke professional detachment.

Like that was going to happen.

Cliff was reversing the anaesthetic. Heidi was leaning over Addie, ready to reassure her the minute she came around. A couple of other nurses stood in the background, looking distressed and concerned.

These were her people now. They were...all she had?

Regardless, they were here for her. He, on the other hand, was part of a nightmare from a distant past, and now he’d be part of today’s nightmare.

He stepped away from the table, feeling almost light-headed. There was nothing else he could do.

‘I’ll leave her to you,’ he told the staff. ‘I... Look after her. Constant obs. Don’t leave her for a moment. I’ll check back in an hour or so but I’m on the end of the phone if I’m needed before then.’

‘Yeah, you need to unpack and settle,’ Cliff said, roughly though, and Noah knew how deeply all those around the table were affected. ‘Thanks, mate. You don’t know how grateful we are that you were here for us.’

Us?

He looked down again at Addie and thought, This is your family. The hospital staff.

It was all she had?

Why did that feel so bad?

‘Do you have everything you need?’ Heidi asked, and he pulled himself together.

‘Yes. Thank you. I won’t be far away. Keep continual obs on her until I say not.’ He’d already said it but it seemed important to say it again. She couldn’t be left alone.

‘Of course we will,’ Heidi told him, and turned back to Addie. Noah was free to go.

After cleaning up post-op, he walked out onto the veranda and then further, out to the cliffs overlooking the beach.

Addie had lost her baby.

A baby...

Sophie...

For a moment he felt so dizzy he thought he’d be ill.

How could he ever have thought he could get away from this grief through work? He should have taken a job as a street cleaner for six months. Anything.

To lose a child...

‘Get a grip,’ he told himself, fiercely, as if it was important to make himself hear. ‘You can’t stop being a doctor because you’ve lost...’

‘I haven’t lost. Not yet.’

It felt like he had. Where was Sophie now? If he didn’t win...

‘Move on,’ he told himself harshly. ‘One step in front of the other, for as long as it takes.’

* * *

The grief was with her almost before she woke, almost before she remembered why she was grieving. It washed across her like a great black wave, swallowing all.

‘Hey.’ Heidi was holding her hand. ‘Hey, Addie. You’re okay.’

‘My baby... I’ve lost...’

‘Oh, Addie, we’re so sorry. Yes, you’ve lost the baby but our new surgeon was wonderful. He’s so skilled. He thinks...we all think that things will be fine.’

Fine. She let the word roll around her head as reality seeped back.

Noah was here, and he thought things were fine.

She should have hit him harder.

* * *

He unpacked, headed back out to the veranda and thought about a walk, but first he needed to check on Addie again. She should be on the other side of the anaesthetic, and the reality of what had happened would be sinking in.

There’d been no call from the nurses so things must be okay physically. But not only had she lost her baby, she’d know the chances of future pregnancies were now reduced. Future pregnancies weren’t impossible but it’d be a concern adding to the grief of her loss.

The nurses would look after her. They knew her and cared for her. As for him... He’d been there when she’d been jilted. He’d been there when she’d lost her baby. He was someone she could well never wish to see again, he conceded, but she might have questions. He owed it to her to answer them if she did.

To lose a child... If someone could answer his questions...

Don’t go there, he told himself savagely. He needed to block it. This was all about Addie.

He headed back into the hospital and a young nurse turned from the phone at the front desk, greeting him with relief.

‘Mr McPherson. We were hoping you might not have left the hospital. We have a ten-year-old coming in from down the coast. He fell trying to reach a bird’s nest and his dad thinks he’s broken his leg. He should be here in about twenty minutes. I know you’re not supposed to start until Monday, but seeing you’re here...’

So much for taking the weekend to get acclimatised, he thought ruefully. Work started now.

But...was work Addie?

Professionally only, he told himself.

He’d come to Currawong Bay to put a failed marriage behind him and to cope with an interminable wait. And Addie? Had she come here for the same reason? If so, the last person she’d want to see would be him, but for now he was her doctor. She’d have to wear it. She’d had enough pain today to mean the little more his presence added shouldn’t make too much difference.

* * *

Addie lay back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling and thought...blank.

Nothing, nothing and nothing.

She might have known it would never work. For the last few weeks she’d been gloriously, ridiculously happy. The first twinges of morning sickness had been met with joy. She was going to be part of a family.

Admittedly it’d be a very small family—one mother and one baby—but it would be a family nonetheless. Here, in this hospital, she had the support around her to make it happen. This was a lovely little community and they’d welcomed her with open arms. There was one grumpy nurse administrator but she’d even been able to manoeuvre that into a working relationship. In the three years she’d been here she’d helped deliver countless babies, she’d made good friends, and she knew she could count on the staff and the community to help her.

Except now she wouldn’t need them. Her hands fell to her tummy, to the wad of dressing where a tiny bump had been before, and she felt her eyes fill with tears.

She wouldn’t cry. She never cried, not when Gavin had jilted her, not when her mum had died, not ever.

Oh, but her baby...

‘Can I come in?’ It was a light tap and Noah McPherson was at the door.

Of all the people to see her cry... Noah. She swiped the tears from her face and fought for dignity. The surge of anger she’d felt as she’d emerged from the anaesthetic had faded. It wasn’t his fault Gavin had jilted her. It wasn’t his fault she’d lost her baby.

He was a doctor, nothing more.

A doctor she’d hit. On top of everything else she was now cringing with remembered humiliation.

‘Of course,’ she managed. The junior nurse who’d been sitting beside her looked a query at Noah and then slipped away, leaving her alone with a man...who’d saved her life?

A man she’d hit.

‘They tell me...you did a good job,’ she said, struggling to find words. ‘The best you could.’

‘Addie, I’m so sorry you’ve lost your baby.’

He didn’t need to be sympathetic. She didn’t want him to be sympathetic.

She wanted her mum. Anyone. No one.

Not Noah.

‘It’s okay.’

‘I’m very sure it’s not,’ he said gently. ‘I can’t imagine how you’re feeling. Can I sit down?’

‘I... Of course.’ What else was there to say?

He sat on the chair the nurse had just vacated. For a moment she thought he was intending to reach out and take her hand and she hauled it under the covers pre-emptively. She saw him wince.

‘I need to talk to you as your doctor,’ he told her. ‘That’s all. Can you stand it?’

‘Of...of course I can.’

He nodded, gravely. ‘There’s not a lot of good news but there is some. Addie...your baby... You know it was tragic chance that she started developing in the fallopian tube.’

‘She?’ she whispered. Her baby...

‘That’s an assumption,’ he said gravely. ‘I thought you said her. Am I right?’

‘I did...think of her as a girl,’ she said grudgingly, and her hands felt the dressing again. ‘I... I know it’s dumb but I was already thinking... Rose for my grandmother? But that’s crazy.’

‘It’s not crazy at all,’ he said gently. ‘Rose. That’s who she was. She was real, a baby who sadly started growing where she had no chance of survival.’

She could hardly speak. She. Her baby. He’d even said her name, a name that she’d almost felt silly for dreaming of. And for some reason it helped. For the last few weeks, filled with wonder and anticipation, she’d been talking to the tiny bump she could scarcely feel. And, yes, she knew she was a girl. At some primeval level...

Or was that because she had so little knowledge of boys? Her family had always been women. Well, two women, herself and her mum.

So many emotions... She wasn’t thinking straight. The anaesthetic was still making its effects felt. She lay back on the pillows and closed her eyes.

‘Addie...’

‘Mmm...’ She wanted to be left alone, in her cocoon of grief. Life felt...barren. She wanted... She wanted...

‘Addie, let’s talk practicalities,’ Noah said, strongly now, and regardless of what she wanted he reached out and took her hand. He held it strongly, a warm, firm hold, the reassurance of one human being touching another. She didn’t want it but, oh...she needed it. She should pull away but she didn’t. Practicalities? Something solid?

Something solid like Noah, she thought, and his hand...helped.

‘We might be able to preserve your embryo for burial if that’s what you wish,’ Noah told her. ‘It’ll need to go to Pathology but after that... There might be something. If you wish.’

‘I...’ It was something. Something to hold to. The remnants of her dream? A place to mourn? ‘I do wish.’

‘Then I’ll try to make it happen. No promises but I’ll do my best. For now, though, Addie, can we talk through the results of the surgery? Or do you want to leave it until later?’

‘Now.’ It was scarcely a whisper. How hard was this?

‘Then I need to tell you that I had to remove the entire tube,’ he told her, in that gentle but professional voice that was somehow what she needed. ‘It was ruptured, and even if I’d managed to suture it, chances are there’d be microscopic embryonic tissue I couldn’t remove, tissue that might cause even more problems in the future. So that’s grim news. But, Addie, I checked the other tube and it’s perfect. Perfect, Addie.’

‘It doesn’t mean...’ She stopped. Her words had been a whisper and they faded out, but he knew what she’d been about to say.

‘It doesn’t mean future pregnancies are assured,’ he finished for her. ‘We both know that. But it does mean future pregnancies are possible. More than possible. You need to give yourself a couple of months to let your body heal, and let yourself heal, too, but then there’s no reason why you shouldn’t try again.’

He saw her face close in pain. This was one of the hardest conversations...talking about a future pregnancy when she’d barely started her grieving over this one. But this was his job, laying out the facts. The facts needed to be implanted, to be there when she needed them.

‘You’re an obstetrician,’ he said gently. ‘You know the odds better than I do, but for now you don’t need to think of them. Put them away for later. For now, just focus on you, on what you need, and on your grief for your tiny daughter.’

‘You sound like you think she was real?’

‘Isn’t she real, Addie? Your Rose?’

He watched her face. This was the hardest part, he thought.

He remembered past lectures, dry as dust, the technicalities of surgical removal of ectopic pregnancies. But he’d sat in the lectures and looked at the diagrams of the baby developing in the fallopian tubes and he’d thought...it involved a death. A loss. A grief. No matter what happened to cause the end of a pregnancy, there must still be grief. He’d understood it then, he’d had it enforced later from harsh, brutal experience and now, watching Addie’s face, he knew it even more strongly.

‘She was...my daughter,’ she whispered. ‘For such a short time.’

‘And she was loved,’ he said gently. ‘And she’ll always be a part of you. But for now...’ The look of strain on her face was almost unbearable. ‘You need to sleep. Do what your body tells you, Addie. The nurse will be coming back. If you need anything more, I’m within calling distance.’

‘I... I know,’ she muttered. ‘Oh, Noah... I slapped you.’

‘You’re welcome to slap me again if it helps,’ he told her, and smiled. ‘Anything you want, just not as long as it stops you sleeping.’ And then he paused. Someone had knocked on the ward door. A head poked around, Henry, the hospital administrator, his face puckered in concern. Things must be pretty bad to haul him from his golf, Noah thought, but as he surged into the room he remembered the distress on the faces of the theatre staff and he knew that Addie was indeed loved.

It made him feel better—sort of—but it also made him feel...bleak.

Why? He wasn’t sure. But Henry was stooping to give Addie a careful kiss and the feeling of bleakness intensified.

‘I’ll leave you to Henry,’ he managed. ‘No more than five minutes, though, Henry, and the nurse needs to return before you leave. Addie needs to sleep.’

‘She needs to sleep for months,’ Henry said roundly. ‘We’ve been telling her and telling her. Long weekends, that’s all she’ll ever take. Cliff rang me and I was never more shocked. Yes, I know it’s hard to get staff to cover but, Addie, you now have no choice. We’re running you out of town. Dr McPherson’s shown he’s more than capable of dealing with obstetric drama and we’ll put in a call for an emergency locum to cover for you. You’re heading to Sydney or wherever you want, maybe the Gold Coast, maybe further north, the Great Barrier Reef, somewhere you can lie in the sun for a couple of months and let your body recover.’

‘A couple of months!’ Addie sounded horrified.

‘Absolutely,’ Henry told her. ‘At a quick calculation, you’re due for nine weeks’ leave, plus sick leave. So we’re not taking no for an answer. My family has an apartment overlooking the beach on the Gold Coast if you want, or you could choose an alternative. Just not here. Addie, you could almost learn to play golf in two months. There’s a life skill. But rest is paramount. Isn’t that right, Dr McPherson?’

‘You do need to rest,’ Noah concurred.

‘There. It’s all settled. No argument. The nurses are out there planning and Morvena’s already contacting locums. For the next few weeks we don’t need you.’

And then Heidi appeared in the doorway with meds and Henry turned to Heidi and started discussing the pros and cons of Gold Coast versus Great Barrier Reef and it was time for Noah to back away. From her...family?

‘Two more minutes and then sleep,’ he said warningly, and got a nod of distracted agreement from Heidi and Henry.

Addie didn’t need him any more. He was free to go.

Free.

That was what he had to get used to.




CHAPTER THREE (#ucf563f04-7168-5633-bb32-9f9c96642400)

Two months later


SHE SHOULD HAVE moved on. Maybe she should have started a new life altogether, but she’d already been there, done that, got the T-shirt.

A two-month break had changed a lot of things. But she knew she could move forward in Currawong.

During the whole time she’d been convalescing, the hospital staff, the Currawong mums she’d delivered, sometimes seemingly the whole community, had kept in touch as much as she wanted.

Currawong felt like home.

There was the hitch that Noah McPherson would still be living in the doctors’ quarters. He’d been with her during two of the worst moments in her life. His presence made her feel...vulnerable.

She’d slapped him when he’d been nothing but a messenger for Gavin’s cowardly retreat. For that she felt embarrassment and guilt.

He’d saved her life, but that also meant he’d been with her when she’d lost her baby. He’d seen her raw and exposed.

But he’d been kind. He’d also been professional and that was the way their relationship needed to go forward.

She’d written him a polite note, apologising once again for the slap and thanking him for his medical intervention.

During the last couple of months, she’d occasionally found herself thinking about him. His concern at the wedding, so harshly rewarded by her over-the-top reaction. His skill and his kindness when she’d lost her baby.

The feel of his hand...

Yeah, and that was entirely unprofessional. Professional was what she needed to be.

Moving on... The new, professional Addie.

She unlocked the door to the doctors’ quarters and tugged her crimson, sparkly wheelie suitcase inside. Tugged? Not so much. This beauty wheeled at a touch. She let it go and watched in satisfaction as it freewheeled halfway across the sitting room. Nice. Her luggage was part of her new look, her revamp, her declaration to the world that she was moving on. This community needed a dedicated obstetrician and that’s what they’d get.

Albeit a sparkly one.

She hadn’t gone completely sparkly. Just a touch. She was wearing a rainbow-coloured sun frock, cinched at the waist. She’d let her hair fly free. Her now silver-blonde hair was streaked with soft amethyst streaks. She was wearing oversized amethyst earrings and a single drop necklace, and her brand-new glasses had a hint of amethyst in their silver rims.

She checked herself in the mirror above the hallstand and was pleased to approve.

And then she saw Noah. The fly in her ointment. This place was home...but Noah? A ghost from her past?

Her intention to stay completely professional flew out the window. Memories of that appalling wedding... Memories of her loss...

He’d signed on for six months. That meant he was here for four more months.

Maybe it was time she got herself her own place to live. The convenience of being right at the hospital for obstetric emergencies had kept her here, but there were alternatives.

‘Addie...’ He was dressed in chinos and a short-sleeved shirt, with a stethoscope dangling from his side pocket. He looked vaguely rumpled, as if he’d had a long day.

Tuesday was a normal day for scheduled surgery, she remembered. He’d probably have kept that routine, and such a day was often hard for a surgeon. Schedules didn’t take into account unscheduled stuff that happened in a town like this.

‘Hi,’ she managed, trying not to think he looked tired. Or...gorgeous? How inappropriate was that?

‘Welcome back.’

‘Thank you. I’m pleased to be back.’ She sounded absurdly formal. They both did.

‘You look...well.’

So much for all the money she’d spent on her transformation. Well? But, then, what did she expect?

While she’d been convalescing she’d been in touch with a couple of friends from back in Sydney. Noah’s name had...just happened...to come up. Apparently there’d been a vitriolic end to his marriage. Was that why Noah had turned his back on his ascendant career to come to Currawong? Loss? Grief?

She thought fleetingly of Noah’s wife. Ex-wife? Even in a wheelchair Rebecca had looked stunning. In comparison, well was as good as Addie could expect.

‘I am well,’ she managed.

‘Can I give you a hand with your luggage?’

At least here was safe ground. ‘No need,’ she said airily. She walked across the room, turned the suitcase until it was facing her bedroom door and kicked it again. A little too hard and a little off course. It zoomed across the polished boards, slammed into the bookcase and a vase toppled off and smashed onto the floor.

Silence.

‘I never liked that vase anyway,’ Addie said at last, looking down at the mess of broken crockery.

‘Designer ware,’ Noah agreed. ‘Supplied by Bland R Us. I’m sure we can find something less sterile in Theatre.’

‘Maybe a bedpan with cactus planted inside...’

‘It’d have more personality,’ he agreed, and she came close to a chuckle. And then she took a deep breath. The time had come. The time was now. ‘I have a confession.’

‘A confession?’

‘I... We may have to put away...some stuff.’ She looked down at the floor rug and grimaced. ‘Like this. This has to go.’

‘I can understand the vase getting in the way of your luggage,’ he said cautiously. ‘But...the rug?’

‘I’m afraid it’ll get eaten.’

More silence. And then... ‘Uh-oh,’ Noah said.

‘I know I should have asked you.’ She was talking too fast, her tongue tripping over the words. ‘I know the lease says no pets and I thought...well, to be honest, I knew if I rang the hospital board and asked they’d say no—Morvena will have a fit!—but if I presented them with a fait accompli then they’ll have to wear it. They haven’t found anyone to replace me, have they?’

‘Locums,’ he said, frowning. ‘They’re not trying to replace you.’

‘I doubt they can.’ She said it with satisfaction. ‘The good thing about working in such a remote area is they need to put up with who they can get.’

‘Like me,’ Noah said, and Addie cast him a suspicious look. If she didn’t know better she’d think she heard laughter.

Actually, there might be laughter. Noah McPherson was way over-qualified for the job here. That Currawong Bay had his services for six months was amazing.

Six months.

Four more months of sharing a house...

‘What have you done?’ And there was no mistaking the laughter now. Those deep grey eyes were twinkling straight at her. She couldn’t help responding. She smiled back and suddenly she felt as she had when she’d walked from the hair salon with her hair coloured. Like the world was opening up before her. With colour?

Well, that was dumb. There was no way Noah McPherson should have that effect on anyone.

‘You’ll have to see.’ She crossed to her bedroom door and pushed her badly behaved suitcase inside.

‘You have something that can eat mats in your suitcase?’

‘I... No.’ She kicked off her high heels because, okay, she’d made a statement and she was home now. It was time to move on to the next thing. But she was home...with Noah?

Daisy would help. Hopefully. Nothing like a Daisy to ease tension. ‘You want to see?’ she asked.

‘I want to see.’

‘Okay,’ she said, striving to sound nonchalant and not anxious at all. ‘Let’s go meet Daisy.’

* * *

Daisy was quite possibly the cutest golden retriever puppy Noah had ever seen.

Addie had obviously decided to unpack before introducing Daisy to her new home. Daisy was therefore currently tied to a veranda post surrounded by dog bed, dog bowls, dog toys...

And oldies.

The veranda was the preferred snoozing place for the residents of the nursing-home section of the hospital. It overlooked the sea and was protected from the prevailing winds. The big wicker chairs were usually filled with snoozers, soaking up the warmth of late summer.

No one was snoozing now. There was a cluster of oldies surrounding a pint-sized bundle of pup.

Was there anything cuter than a golden retriever puppy? Noah didn’t think so, and Daisy wasn’t about to change his mind. She looked about ten or twelve weeks old, and she was wriggling all over. Still tied to her veranda post—the oldies obviously hadn’t ventured to untie her, although they were clearly longing to—she was tugging to the length of her leash so she could wiggle and lick and greet as many new friends as fitted into her orbit.

His first thought? Sophie would love this puppy.

No. He shoved the thought away, hard. Four months to wait...

‘Oh!’ Addie was sounding dismayed as she hurried forward toward the clustered oldies. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you. You guys are supposed to be asleep.’

They weren’t asleep now. Without exception, the residents of the nursing home had migrated to the doctors’ house end of the veranda. Bill Harrison, ex farmer, was crouched on the ground, enticing Daisy to crawl onto knees that had been destroyed by eighty years of heaving hay bales. But it was doubtful if he was even feeling his knees. He was intent on unclipping Daisy’s leash and his attention was on the pup.

‘There’s all the sleep in the world where I’m headed,’ he growled now. ‘Bugger naps. Where’d you get this one, Addie? She’s a beauty.’

‘She is, isn’t she?’ Addie beamed and plonked herself down on her knees with Bill. ‘I’ve only had her since this morning. I picked her up on the way home, from a breeder in Sydney. I shouldn’t have her here, but I thought you guys might be able to help look after her.’

‘Us?’ It was Ruby May Alderstone, a long-retired schoolteacher, shrivelled from years of rheumatoid arthritis and usually grim from constant pain. But now she was smiling, stooping from her wheelchair to click her fingers to entice Daisy to come to her.

‘Only if you want,’ Addie said.

Daisy launched herself from Bill’s knees to Addie’s, reached up and licked, throat to forehead, a great, slurpy dog kiss, and Addie giggled and held.

And Noah thought, I know why she’s bought this dog.

He still didn’t have a handle on Addie Blair. He’d worked with her occasionally back in Sydney when she’d been a newly qualified obstetrician, engaged to be married to one of his surgical colleagues. He’d thought her plain, mousy, competent. The couple of times she’d been in Theatre with him she hadn’t joined in the general theatre banter. He’d thought her...boring. The fact that she had been engaged to Gavin had cemented that thought.

Then he’d seen her at what was supposed to be her wedding. She’d been beautiful that day, but beautiful in a strange way. It was as if she’d been dressed by others, transformed into a Barbie-type caricature of the real Addie. The boring Addie had still been underneath.

Then she’d slapped him and he’d seen fire behind the bland exterior. For the first time he’d seen spirit.

That spirit had seemed extinguished two months ago—and why wouldn’t it have been? The Addie he’d seen in the hospital bed had seemed like she’d had the life snuffed out of her. He’d felt desperately sorry for her, but there’d been nothing he could do.

But now...she’d done something for herself. Not something. Some things. She’d come back perky and fresh and defiant. Her outfit was a far cry from the sensible Addie he’d first met, but it hadn’t taken her back to the Barbie Addie of her wedding day. Her clothes, her accessories looked like they’d been chosen with care, and chosen...for fun? Her sun dress was fun and flirty. Her hair looked great.

She hadn’t abandoned her glasses, as she’d done for the wedding, but she’d changed them for slightly oversized ones, with silver rims and hints of colour.

She was cuddling the wriggling Daisy and she was laughing and he thought...

Physician, heal thyself?

And then she turned a little and he saw a glimpse of what was behind. She was holding Daisy as if she needed her.

The loss was still with her, then. Disguised, but bone deep.

‘What is that doing here?’

He glanced along the veranda. Uh-oh. Morvena.

Morvena Harris was the nurse administrator of Currawong Hospital. She was well into her sixties but she showed no sign of retirement, or even slowing down. She ran the little hospital with ruthless efficiency, and, it had to be said, with skill. The staff reluctantly respected her. Patients might sometimes feel they were being bossed into recovering but recover they did.

If there was a medical need, Morvena pulled out all stops to make sure her patients lacked nothing, but there was the rub. Her patients. Her hospital. Her rules.

Noah had already had a run-in with her over visiting times. A young mum, a dairy farmer, had been in with appendicitis and the only time her husband had been able to bring his kids to visit had been after milking, late at night. Which was later than the rules stipulated.

‘You can visit your wife, but the children can’t come,’ Morvena had decreed. ‘You can’t guarantee they won’t be noisy.’

Noah had looked at their distress and put his foot down. Morvena still hadn’t forgiven him.

It didn’t make it any better that she was Henry’s mother-in-law. The affable Henry was like putty in his bossy mother-in-law’s hands. What Morvena wanted, Morvena usually got.

Now she was looking at Daisy as if she were a bad smell. A very bad smell. Then she glanced at Noah. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face fast enough, and her expression darkened. As if suspecting mass insubordination?

‘Who brought that animal onto the premises?’

‘She’s mine.’ Addie looked up at Morvena and smiled, but Noah could see the shakiness behind the smile. This was defiance but defiance could only go so far. ‘Hi, Morvena. This is Daisy. She’s going to live with me.’

‘Not here, she’s not,’ Morvena decreed. ‘Dogs shed. Allergies present a nightmare. You know the rules, Dr Blair.’

‘I’ve already rung a couple of my young mums,’ Addie told her. ‘They’ve offered to organise a roster for runs during the day. She won’t be a problem. We can keep her in the yard behind the doctors’ house.’

‘She can’t live on hospital premises,’ Morvena snapped. ‘The doctors’ accommodation is hospital property. End of story.’

‘Then I’ll find my own apartment.’ She tilted her chin and Noah wondered how many run-ins Addie had had with Morvena in the past. A few, by the look of things. Morvena was looking at Addie with the same kind of belligerence Noah had thought was reserved for him.

But was there fear behind Addie’s defiance? Fear that something else was to be snatched from her?

Something settled inside him, something hard and unassailable. There was little he could do for Addie, but he could do this.

‘She shouldn’t be confined to the doctors’ house yard,’ he said, and Morvena gave a surprised nod of satisfaction.

‘I’m glad you agree. Now—’

‘She needs to be out here.’

‘What—?’

‘Daisy’s a companion dog,’ he said, inexorably. ‘Her place is with patients.’

He was watching the Daisy in question turn from Addie to Ruby. The ex-schoolteacher bent with difficulty so she could pat the soft little ears and Daisy responded by trying to turn a complete circle on the wheelchair footrest. She failed, fell sideways, lay for a stunned moment on the veranda and then looked up and around with what Noah swore was a grin. Like, That was what I meant to do all along. The circle around Daisy convulsed in laughter. A couple of nurses, further down the veranda and obviously on their break, edged up to see.

‘A companion dog...’ Morvena snorted. ‘What nonsense. They have to be trained. That dog—’

‘Was obviously bred to be a companion dog,’ Noah said. ‘And you must have read the literature, Morvena. The effect of a companion dog on depression and anxiety in long-term residents of nursing homes can’t be understated. It’s associated with increased social interaction, increased confidence, decreasing levels of isolation and, most of all, fun.’

‘If we wanted a trained companion dog we’d have organised one,’ she snapped back at him. ‘A proper one. With a proper accredited owner.’

‘And you’d pay for it how?’

There was the rub. This little hospital ran on a shoestring. It might be excellent and well equipped, but there was no money for extras.

‘And you do realise our nursing home advertising brochure is misleading,’ Noah went on, pushing his point hard, while Addie and the elderly residents watched in a certain amount of awe. ‘The brochure clearly states that activities are organised morning and afternoon. Lorna comes every morning to organise excursions and games, but the afternoon, Morvena?’

‘The brochure was printed years ago,’ Morvena snapped.

‘And it’s still being given to potential residents. The people here could sue for false representation.’

There was a shocked hush. Everyone held their breath. Morvena was staring at Noah as if he had two heads. Such defiance was obviously unheard of in her reign.

Addie was staring at him, too, her eyes wide, looking...hornswoggled.

‘Hey, we could, too.’ That was Bert Nanbor, a Vietnam veteran who’d managed life without a leg until a farm accident two years back had seen him lose the other. ‘I came in after reading that brochure and I’ve sat on this veranda bored stupid every afternoon since. And allergies...’ He snorted. ‘This is outside. There’s plenty of fresh air to blow allergies away, and we all have our own rooms. Anyone with allergies doesn’t need to share. But even then... Allergies... Never had ’em in my day. Anyone here got allergies?’

There was a chorus of rebuttal. The nurses up the back were hiding their mouths with their hands. Stifling giggles.

‘And we’ll help you train him, Doc,’ Bert added, turning his attention to Addie. ‘Almost everyone here comes from farms and we know dogs. Bill here used to train working dogs, didn’t you, Bill? This little lass looks smart as paint. We could have her herding sheep in no time.’ And then he grinned. ‘Or herding Mrs Rowbotham’s hens. It’s time those hens learned discipline.’

Addie had been trying to keep a straight face but she lost it now. She chuckled—and Noah glanced across at her and thought... Wow.

The chuckle transformed her. It lit her within.

Had he ever heard her chuckle?

He thought back to the serious colleague he’d worked with before her failed wedding. She’d been sober, conscientious, seemingly almost bowed down by the responsibility of getting things right.

Gavin had told him of the death of her father, and of Gavin’s own father. Apparently they’d been engineers, working on a major bridge construction together. The bridge had collapsed when she and Gavin had been toddlers. According to Gavin, he and Addie had then been practically raised together, their mothers united by common grief.

‘That’s why we’re getting married,’ Gavin had told him, in those last desperate moments of justification, before Gavin had disappeared and left him facing the failed wedding farce that had followed. ‘Addie’s mother has cancer. My mum’s gutted and she needs me to do the right thing. This was meant to keep all of them happy.’

Yeah, right. Good one, Gavin.

He’d lost touch with Addie after the wedding. She’d quietly left the hospital and he’d been caught up in his own worries. But now... The Currawong hospital grapevine—which spread to Noah whether he willed it or not—was good, and Addie had been here for almost three years. But the grapevine didn’t know why—or even how—she’d become pregnant. There was communal disgust that it hadn’t guessed.

In that appalling few moments before surgery, she’d told him she’d used donated sperm. Why? Had the experience with Gavin turned her off men for life?

Conscientious. Boring.

Watching her now... Was there a different Addie underneath?

He turned his attention deliberately back to the pup. What business of his was Addie’s life?

‘You realise Mrs Rowbotham is the hospital housekeeper and weekend cook,’ she was saying, stifling chuckles as she tried to respond to Bert. ‘Eggs from her chooks feed the hospital.’

‘There’s no reason why that’ll change,’ Bert said blithely. ‘If I was their size and I had this pup on my tail, I might lay an egg myself.’

It was too much. Everyone laughed, and Addie’s chuckle was glorious, a lovely, tinkling laugh that seemed...

To be setting something free?

‘You still can’t keep the dog,’ Morvena snapped, sounding driven against the ropes. ‘It’s against the rules.’

Addie’s face fell but Noah thought, No one’s going to mess with that chuckle on my watch.




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