Capturing the Single Dad’s Heart (14 page)

The shadow of her ex. Again.

And it would take time before he could melt that particular shadow away. He needed to take it slowly. ‘OK. I understand,' he said.

‘For now, let's just be,' she said.

It felt good, lying there with her in his arms. Nothing to think about or worry about except each other.

Though he couldn't help noticing the time.

‘Erin. I really don't want to go, but I need to pick Caitlin up—'

‘I know. It's OK.'

‘One day,' he said softly, ‘we'll get to spend the night together.'

She chuckled. ‘I'm glad you're a better surgeon than you are when it comes to words. Day and night are two separate things, you know.'

‘They won't be,' he said. ‘Because I intend to make you lose track of time.'

‘I'll take that as a promise,' she said, and kissed him lightly. ‘You'd better go, or you'll get stuck in traffic. But thank you for today. For—well, being understanding.'

Which told him that either the men she'd dated since her ex hadn't been understanding, or she hadn't trusted them enough to get as far as telling them what had happened to her. ‘Thank
you
,' he said. ‘For trusting me.'

‘I'm older and wiser and a better judge of character, now,' she said. ‘And I like you, Nate Townsend. I like you a whole lot.'

And one day, he hoped, she'd let herself love him.

He climbed out of bed and started to get dressed. When she sat up, he shook his head. ‘Stay there. You look comfortable. And cute.'

‘But—'

‘I can see myself out,' he said. ‘And I guess I'll see you tomorrow.'

‘You can count on that.'

He finished dressing, then gave her a lingering kiss goodbye. ‘One day,' he said softly. ‘Keep that in mind.'

‘I will,' she promised.

CHAPTER TEN

E
RIN
 
LAY
 
CURLED
 
in her bed, all warm and cosy and totally replete.

Nate had been a considerate lover, and she really appreciated the fact that he'd been so careful with her. She had a pretty good idea how he felt about her, now—though she'd stopped him saying it out loud, because the words scared her stupid. In her experience, love didn't work out, and she really wanted this to work out. Nate was important to her and so was Caitlin.

But what if it all went wrong, the way it usually did for her relationships? It wasn't just her feelings at stake any more. Maybe she should back off before everyone ended up hurt...

* * *

On Monday morning, Erin was busy in clinic. ‘So tell me about your symptoms,' she said to the worried-looking woman in front of her.

‘I've been getting these weird feelings in my neck for the last couple of weeks,' Harriet said. ‘It's kind of like jerking—I can't stop it happening. I saw my doctor and he said I'd probably just slept awkwardly and it would go away, but it's got worse over the last two weeks so he sent me here.'

Erin had already seen from the notes that Harriet had no previous significant medical history and wasn't on any medication. ‘Does anyone in your family have a history of neurological illness?' she asked. ‘Anything like epilepsy?'

‘Not that I know of,' Harriet said. ‘Is that what I've got?'

‘I'll need to examine you properly before I can give you a diagnosis,' Erin said, ‘so I'm afraid I have a few more questions. Is there any pattern to the movements? Do they stop or get better when you're relaxed? And do you know if you get them in your sleep?'

‘There's no real pattern—they just start and I have no idea when it's going to happen or how long it'll go on. Though they seem a bit worse when I'm stressed,' Harriet said, ‘which is probably why they're getting more frequent. I get them in my sleep, too. My boyfriend's the one who noticed it first. It woke him up.'

Erin had to damp down the little flare of envy. What would it be like, to wake up in your boyfriend's arms? It was something she'd never done, something she'd never allowed herself to do, because she'd always compartmentalised her relationships.

Would Nate be the one she finally woke up to?

‘I'm really scared that there's something really wrong with me,' Harriet said. Then she grimaced. ‘Oh, no. It's starting again.'

Erin could see immediately that the muscles in the nape of Harriet's neck were jerking rhythmically, on both sides.

‘I'm going to do a full neurological examination,' Erin said, ‘and then I'm going to run some tests to find out what's causing the twitching—it's something called myoclonus, which basically means that your muscles contract and relax. It's the same sort of thing as hiccups or if you're dropping off to sleep and suddenly feel a “start”, though it's rarer for the muscles in your neck to be affected.'

‘Is it serious? Am I going to die?' Harriet asked. ‘Is it catching?'

‘It's not catching and it's not fatal,' Erin reassured her, ‘and actually your doctor was right because with some people it does just disappear.'

‘So what causes it?'

‘Epilepsy, which is why I asked you if anyone in your family had it,' Erin explained, ‘or an infection. Sometimes it happens if someone has a spinal injury or a brain injury—and sometimes it just happens and we don't know why.'

‘I haven't had any accidents or banged into anything,' Harriet said. ‘So it can't be a brain injury, and my back's fine. And I haven't had any kind of bug.'

‘OK. Let me examine you and we'll take it from there,' Erin said. ‘I might need to run quite a few tests, and there will be a bit of waiting around, so are you OK to be here all day? Do you want me to call anyone to come and keep you company? Your boyfriend?'

‘No. I'll be OK,' Harriet said.

There was nothing unusual in the neurological exam; a routine electroencephalograph, blood tests and an MRI scan all came back clear, too.

‘So far, I can't find a physical cause, so I'm going to give you a needle EMG,' Erin said. ‘That stands for an electromyograph. What it means is that I put a needle into your muscles—it sounds much scarier than it is, and it doesn't hurt—and it records the electrical activity of your muscles and plots everything for me on a graph so I can analyse it. I normally use an EMG to help me diagnose the cause of pain in the back or the neck, or to show if there's a nerve compression injury, such as carpal tunnel syndrome.'

But the EMG was clear, too.

‘So the good thing is that there isn't a physical injury,' Erin said. ‘What I'm going to do is give you some anti-epilepsy medication, and ask you to come back and see me in a fortnight to see how you're getting on. I'm pretty sure the medication will stop the muscle contractions, but if it doesn't then I can try a couple of other treatments. The most important thing is that you don't worry.' She smiled at Harriet. ‘Which I know is easier said than done. But you can call me here at any time, and if it gets worse instead of better then come back before your appointment and we'll try something else.'

* * *

Over the next couple of weeks, Nate and Erin managed to snatch time together around their shifts, and sneaked in a half day where Nate whisked her back to his house for lunch in bed.

‘I'm sure people are going to start to guess about us at work,' he said. ‘I have a goofy smile on my face every time I look at you.'

‘Me, too,' she said. ‘You know you said you wanted to make me feel like a teenager? Mission accomplished.'

‘The way I feel about you—I know, I know, you don't want me to say the words. But I never expected to feel like this about anyone again.' He stroked her face. ‘Maybe it's time we went public.'

‘We need to tell Caitlin, first,' Erin said. ‘If she's OK with it, then we'll go public.'

‘So when are we going to tell her?'

‘Saturday?' Erin suggested.

‘Saturday,' he agreed. ‘And we'll plan our strategy over breakfast on Friday.'

‘Sounds perfect,' she said.

* * *

On Thursday evening, Nate's phone pinged with a text.

‘I'll get that for you, Dad,' Caitlin said, before he could tell her that it was fine and to leave it.

She picked up the phone, and because the message was short it was fully visible on the front of his lock screen. ‘It's from Erin—she says see you at breakfast.' She paused. ‘And there's a kiss.' She stared at him, and was it his own guilty conscience or was there a note of accusation in her voice when she asked, ‘Why are you seeing Erin for breakfast?'

‘To discuss a patient,' he said swiftly.

‘But you'd do that at work, not at home.' She frowned. ‘I was talking to Shelby at school about you and she thought Erin was your girlfriend. I said she wasn't, but
are
you dating Erin?'

Stalling for time, he asked, ‘Why would I be dating her?'

‘Are you seeing her secretly?' Caitlin demanded. ‘Because otherwise why would she text you with a kiss on the end?'

Oh, hell. Clearly his expression had confirmed her worst fears because then Caitlin shook her head, looking hurt and miserable. ‘When you and Erin took me to Kew and that locked room place, it wasn't because you wanted to be with me, was it? You just used me as an excuse to date Erin in secret.'

He could definitely tell her that wasn't true. Of course he'd wanted to spend time with his daughter. ‘That's not true, Cait, I—'

But it was too late. She was already running upstairs and he heard her bedroom door slam. His heart sinking, he realised that they'd gone right back to how things had been when Caitlin had first come to live with him. He'd just managed to ruin all the progress they'd made.

This was a row he couldn't handle on his own. Caitlin wouldn't believe anything he said. It was way past the time of telling her the truth—and he needed to do that with Erin at his side. Just as they'd originally planned to do.

He grabbed his phone and called her. ‘Erin, we've got a problem. Caitlin picked up your text and she's worked everything out for herself. Except she thinks I used her to date you in secret—and she didn't believe me when I said that's not true. I know it's a lot to ask, but could you maybe come over and help me talk to her?'

‘Of course I will.' Erin's voice was calm and reassuring, and Nate realised then how much he was panicking. Which was ridiculous. At work, he performed operations that carried a high risk of paralysis for his patients and he was cool, calm and in absolute control. Why couldn't he be like that at home with his daughter?

‘Even if she's upset and angry, she might listen to me because she knows I've been in her shoes,' Erin continued. ‘I'm on my way now. Go and talk to her—even if it's through a closed door and she doesn't answer you. It'll reassure her that you care.'

He didn't have a clue what to say but he'd wing it. There was no other choice. ‘Thanks.'

When he ended the call, he went upstairs and knocked on Caitlin's door. There was no answer, as he'd half expected. But at least she wasn't blasting out music, so she'd be able to hear whatever he said. He took a deep breath. All he could tell her was the truth and open his heart to her.

‘Cait, I admit, I am dating Erin, but it's not why I asked her to come out with us. We really were just friends at the beginning, but I've come to see her as more than a friend over the last few weeks. And when I've taken her out with you it's because I want to do things with
you
, Cait—to do things with you as a family.'

She didn't answer.

He tried again. ‘I love you. Yes, I know it was tough when you first came to live with me, and we've both had to make a few adjustments, but I thought we were getting along pretty well.'

There was still no answer.

He battled on grimly, telling her how important she was to him. Even though he didn't think the message was getting through, he had to try.

Finally, to his relief, the doorbell went. It had to be Erin. He went downstairs to let her in, and then she followed him up to Caitlin's room.

When Erin knocked on the door, there was still no answer.

‘Caitlin, it's Erin. I'm coming in because we need to talk and sort this out, OK?' Erin said.

When Caitlin still said nothing, Erin opened the door. But, to Nate's shock, his daughter's room was empty.

‘Oh, my God—no wonder she didn't answer us. She's not here.' He dragged in a breath. ‘She can't have run away. She
can't
. And when could she have left the house? I was right here outside her door all the time...' He closed his eyes. ‘Except when I rang you. She must have gone out then, and I didn't hear the front door.'

He dragged his phone from his pocket and called Caitlin's mobile. ‘Switched off,' he reported grimly.

‘OK. Let's think logically. Where's she likely to have gone?' Erin asked. ‘The back garden? Didn't you say you were giving her a patch of her own there?'

But the back garden was empty, too.

‘She might have gone to my mum's. Or maybe her friend Shelby's.' He called both homes, with the same result: Caitlin wasn't there, but if they heard anything from her they'd call Nate immediately.

‘She wouldn't have gone back to Devon,' Nate said, ‘because she doesn't have the money for a train ticket.'

‘Maybe she called her mum,' Erin suggested. ‘Steph could've bought her a ticket to pick up at the station.'

It wasn't a call he relished, but if it meant his daughter would be safe he would've walked a mile across burning coals. He rang Stephanie. ‘It's Nate. Just a quick question—has Caitlin called you at all this evening?'

‘No. Why—what's happened?' she asked.

‘We had a bit of a fight,' Nate admitted.

He could almost see her shrug when she said, ‘She'll get over it.'

How could Steph be so matter-of-fact about it? Didn't it tie her up in knots when she fell out with their daughter? ‘Uh-huh,' he said, trying to sound noncommittal.

Her voice sharpened with suspicion. ‘What aren't you telling me, Nate?'

He owed it to her to tell her the truth. Plus if Caitlin did ring, Stephanie could maybe find out where she was and call him to let him know so he could go and fetch her. ‘Don't panic, but she's not actually here at the moment. I'm trying to work out where she's gone. I wondered if she'd called you and asked you to buy her a train ticket to Devon.'

‘Oh, my God—you're telling me you've lost my daughter?' Stephanie's voice rose to a shriek.

‘She's my daughter, too,' Nate pointed out, ‘and right now I'm trying to find her. Look, if she calls you, please just keep her talking and let me know where she is so I can go and get her. Meanwhile I'll keep looking for her—and I promise I'll call you the second I've found her.'

‘Maybe she's gone to the sensory garden,' Erin suggested when he ended the call. ‘It's somewhere she loves and she can be on her own to think things through. That's what I'd do in her shoes.'

‘OK. Let's go.'

‘Wait—we can check from here.' She called Ayesha, the chair of the Friends of the London Victoria, who organised the rota. ‘Hi, Ayesha, it's Erin from the spinal unit. I was just wondering—who's working at the sensory garden this evening?' She explained the situation swiftly. ‘Can you do me a huge favour and contact Nola for me and ask her if she can check if Caitlin's there, then call me to let me know either way? Thanks so much. I really appreciate it.'