The Doctors' Baby (3 page)

But it still only had one living room and one kitchen!

So Jonas was heading back to his hotel tonight, but as of tomorrow she'd have him permanently under her feet.

A partner and a housemate—for a month!

But not until tomorrow, she told herself desperately. By then she should have time to get her wayward emotions under control!

 

Em met Jonas again sooner than the next day. She met him that night.

Two hours later, Em parked outside Home Two, one
of the homes making up Bay Beach Orphanage, and recognised the car parked out front straight away.

How many people in town drove silver Alfa Romeos? None that she knew of, she thought. Except Jonas.

What on earth was
he
doing here?

Drat her stupid emotions, she thought. Why did the sight of his car make her heart jolt?

As her friend opened the front door, Em had to school her expression to hide her surprise, and she had to force her voice to sound normal. It was no mean feat, but somehow she did it.

‘Hi, Lori.' She smiled at her friend but gave a sideways, cautious glance at the Alfa. ‘Am I intruding?'

‘Of course you're not.' Lori pulled the door wide, allowing her to see Jonas sitting at the kitchen table. He looked up at her and smiled, and Em's heart did that lurching thing she was becoming familiar with and didn't understand in the least. ‘Jonas and I are having a cup of tea. Do you have time to join us?'

‘I might have,' Em said, wary. ‘Thanks to Jonas.'

‘He told me about taking over your surgery.' Lori pressed her friend's hand. ‘And about Charlie. Em, I'm so sorry.'

‘It's OK.'

But it wasn't. She'd hardly had time to think of Charlie, but now she blinked back unexpected tears. Damn, she had to give herself time to mourn.

When would she fit that in? Tuesday week, eleven to twelve?

‘I… Maybe I won't have that tea. I'll just see Robby and then I'll go,' she told Lori. Robby was the reason she'd come. Whatever Jonas was here for, she had to concentrate on her work.

Which was Robby.

And he needed concentration. Robby was eight months old. He'd been orphaned in a car crash two months ago. Badly burned, he'd only recently been transferred from hospital to the Bay Beach Home.

Robby still really needed city medical facilities—physiotherapy, occupational therapy and the associated bevy of health-care services—but his aunt lived in Bay Beach and she wouldn't hear of him going anywhere else.

Neither would she take him in herself—or allow the thought of someone else adopting him. So Robby was being cared for by Lori at the home, with Em providing daily medical care.

There were worse fates, Em thought. Lori offered no long-term solution for the little boy, but she loved him to bits.

As did Em. Robby had spent two weeks in hospital in Sydney and then, at his aunt's insistence, had spent six weeks at Bay Beach General Hospital. In that time he'd twisted himself around Em's heart like a hairy worm, so much so that when she entered his bedroom now and the little boy reached up his arms, she pulled him to her and hugged as hard as his burned little body would allow.

He was tiny, underweight for his age, with scarring, healing wounds and skin grafts still covering his left side. He'd been burned right up to his chin. The only parts of him that seemed unhurt were his bright little brown eyes, his snub nose and his mop of silver blond curls.

Yes, Em loved him. She'd unashamedly lost her professional detachment, and she'd lost her heart completely.

‘Have you been waiting for me?' she whispered. ‘I thought you'd be asleep, you ragamuffin!'

‘He's supposed to be.' Lori had followed her friend into the room. ‘He's been down for half an hour. But he's so
accustomed to seeing you in the evenings that I can't get him to sleep until you come.'

‘What's the problem?' Em started at the sound of the deep tones. Jonas also had followed them in and was leaning against the door, watching them.

Em and baby were quite a pair, he thought, and if Em could have known what he was thinking she would have blushed to her socks.

She was a strikingly good-looking woman, tall and dark and beautiful, and now, with the child pressed against her breast, she looked stunningly maternal. Robby was still heavily bandaged. He wore a smooth elastic skin to stop his grafts from scarring, and his white dressings were in stark contrast to Em's smooth and darker skin.

The sight set Jonas back more than he cared to admit. He shifted against the door and rephrased his question. ‘What happened to the baby?'

And Lori told him, while he watched Em's skilful hands lift away dressings and elastic to check the healing wounds.

He could have helped, he thought—it took several minutes and Lori assisted, but with Jonas's help it would have been quicker—but he was content, for the moment, to watch.

He was getting to know Emily Mainwaring, and the more he saw, the more he approved.

‘What?' Em said crossly, as she taped the last dressing, and he started at her tone.

‘I beg your pardon?'

‘You've been staring at me for ten minutes. I suppose you
have
seen burns dressed before.'

‘I have,' He smiled at her, defusing her crossness. ‘Many times.'

‘There's nothing different here.'

‘By the look of those burns, he should still be in hospital,' Jonas said cautiously, feeling his way. Lori was watching both of them with interest, but the tension was all between Jonas and Em.

‘Probably. He has more skin grafts to go,' Em told him, once more gathering the little boy to her breast and cradling him like her own. ‘But he was becoming institutionalised. I couldn't bear it.'

‘And Lori's a good house mother?'

‘The best,' Em said warmly, and looked over Robby's fuzzy head at her friend. ‘We've had some wonderful housemothers here. Wendy. Erin. The most committed women… And Lori's the absolute best.'

‘I'm glad to hear it,' Jonas said simply. ‘I suspected as much, and I'm grateful. I persuaded Lori to look after Anna's kids today on a temporary basis—I gather she's the only home mother without a full house—but if there's a major problem and Anna needs an operation then they'll need to come here for a while.'

Em frowned, thinking it through. ‘Is that possible, Lori?'

‘It is,' Lori told her. ‘I've just got off the phone from the powers that be. We can juggle it. Jonas wants something concrete to tell his sister tonight. She needs to know that, no matter what, her kids will be safe.'

‘She's having second thoughts,' Jonas told Em. ‘About having the tests. She says there's no one to look after the children if she has to have an operation, so why bother having the tests at all?'

‘She's badly frightened,' Em said, and he nodded.

‘I know. That's why everything has to be settled and easy.'

‘You don't think you could assure her you'd take care of the kids yourself?'

‘Even if Anna would agree—which she probably wouldn't—I don't think I could,' he admitted honestly, his engaging smile flashing back again. ‘They're four, six and eight years old respectively, and I'm a bachelor, born and bred. My childminding skills are about nil. It'd be much easier to work for you and pay Lori to do it.'

‘Coward.'

He chuckled out loud. ‘Rather be a chicken than a dead hen.' Then he paused. Robby had snuggled into Em's shoulder and was falling asleep before their eyes.

Institutionalised? Maybe not, he thought as he watched. This wasn't a baby who was turning away from the world. The little one was bonding with the adult who'd become permanent. With Em.

And Em knew it. The bonding was a state Em mistrusted, and it was the real reason the little boy was no longer in hospital. She couldn't handle her increasing feelings for him, but she had to keep treating him. Apart from being the only doctor in the place, she couldn't bear not to.

She held him now, and the same familiar longing flooded through her. The longing to hold him for ever had hit unexpectedly when she'd treated him the night his parents had died—the night of the accident—and it had never faded. And, quite simply, she didn't have a clue what to do about it.

‘Em, you know Lori and you're great with Anna. I have an idea.' Jonas was speaking to her, and she had to force her attention away from her baby—no, her
patient
—and back to Jonas. He glanced at his watch. ‘Have you eaten?'

Eaten? He had to be joking. When did she get dinner before nine at night?

‘No,' she said shortly, and he nodded.

‘Then can I ask you to eat and then do a house call?'
he said. ‘With me? I'll prepay you for the house call with fish and chips on the beach.'

‘Fish and chips…'

‘You do eat fish and chips?' Once more came his resigned tone that told her he thought she was a dope, and she had to chuckle. OK, she was acting like one. Maybe she even deserved to be treated as such.

‘Sure I eat fish and chips,' she told him. ‘You show me a resident of Bay Beach who doesn't! If I'm hungry enough—like now—I'll even eat the newspaper they're wrapped in. But what's your house call?'

‘To my sister.'

She'd suspected as much. ‘Why?'

‘To assure her that Lori is perfectly capable of childcare. She doesn't trust me. It took me three days to have her leave the kids here for two hours this morning. Now I'm working on leaving them here again tomorrow, and then on the possibility of longer-term child care after that. You could help.'

‘Why would she listen to me any more than she'd listen to you?'

‘She doesn't trust men,' Jonas said simply, and behind them Lori grinned.

‘Wise lady.'

‘Hey!' Jonas smiled at them both, and spread his hands in mute appeal. ‘What's there to mistrust?'

Everything, thought Em, but she didn't say a word.

‘Do you have any more urgent calls?' he asked.

‘I have an evening ward round.'

‘That can wait. I'd imagine you wear a beeper.'

‘Of course I wear a beeper.'

‘Then I'll help you with your ward round and then the evening's ours,' he told her grandly. ‘Apart from house
calls and emergencies. What more could two people want?'

What, indeed?

 

They ate their dinner on the beach because, quite simply, it was the most beautiful and most lonely place to be and what Em needed most was solitude to absorb the fact of Charlie's death.

Strangely, she didn't mind that her much-needed solitude was shared with Jonas, and it didn't seem less peaceful because he was with her. He bought them fish and chips and soda water—‘I'd prefer wine but with your workload I'm guessing you'd refuse'—and then settled beside her. Then he let her alone with her thoughts.

Like Em, he seemed content to munch his fish and chips, and stare out to where the moon was just starting to glimmer over the horizon. Somehow, though, he seemed to gaze inward just the same.

So she was left with her thoughts. It was the most beautiful place, Em thought. Charlie had loved this beach.

And Charlie's death was suddenly very, very real.

‘You loved him very much,' Jonas said after a while, and Em looked down as his hand moved across to gently cover hers. It wasn't an attempt at intimacy, though. It was a gesture of comfort—nothing more—and it warmed her more than she could say.

There was nothing between them but the truth. ‘Yes,' she agreed simply. ‘Since Grandpa died we've been even closer. Charlie's always been my best friend, and after Grandpa died he was all I've had.'

‘When did your parents die?'

‘When I was tiny. They died like Robby's parents. In a car crash.'

‘And that's why you feel so strongly about Robby?'

The idea startled her. She hadn't seen it like that but now, looking at it dispassionately, she realised maybe he was right.

‘I guess so.'

‘Except he doesn't have a Grandpa and a Charlie to love him.'

‘Maybe I was lucky.'

‘So it seems.' Jonas stirred and poured himself out more soda water. ‘I wish I'd known them.'

And suddenly she wished that he'd known them, too. Her two lovely old men.

‘They were amazing,' she told him. Her tired grey eyes creased into a smile of memory. ‘They were a machiavellian pair of old devils, they got into every mischief they possibly could, but they brought me up so well.'

‘I can see that.'

It was a compliment, direct and to the point, and its simplicity made Em flush. ‘I didn't mean…'

‘I know you didn't,' he said softly. ‘If you had, I wouldn't have said it.'

She looked down at him for a long, long moment. He was lying full length on the sand as he sipped his soda water. His hand was still on hers and his big body seemed to go on for ever. He was lazily watching the moon as it slid silently up over the horizon—a thing worth watching—but, by watching it and not her, he made her feel apart from him. As if she still had her solitude yet she wasn't alone.

It was an impossible feeling to describe. Apart, and yet not. Warmed? Warmer than she'd felt for years.

Just…not so alone.

This man was only here for a month, she told herself, shaken more than she cared to admit by the feelings she
was experiencing. She was here for life, and he was here for such a short time. And then she'd be alone again…

‘Why did you come to practise in Bay Beach?' he asked, and she started. It was as if he'd read her thoughts.

‘There was never a choice.'

‘Because Grandpa and Charlie were here?'

‘That, and the fact that I love Bay Beach.'

‘I can't imagine there's much of a social life in Bay Beach?' His statement was a question.