Kitabı oku: «The Baby They Longed For», sayfa 2
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
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.
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