Bride on the Children's Ward / Marriage Reunited: Baby on the Way (18 page)

‘I’ve not long realised that.’

‘She came round late last night and asked if she could come home.’ Hal shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. ‘It’s as though everything really is in the past—that it has all been forgiven and forgotten. I feel as though I have my family back.’ He clapped David on the back. ‘And we owe it all to you.’

‘To me?’

‘Yes. You brought her over, got her to talk to us.’

‘I didn’t do anything, Hal. It was all Eden. I merely provided moral support.’

Hal nudged him and winked. ‘Looked like more than moral support to me. So, what’s the deal? You in love with my Eden?’

‘As a matter of fact, yes.’ David’s answer momentarily stunned Hal.

‘Really? I was only trying to tease you.’ Hal gulped and quickly processed the information. ‘Well, that’s beaut, then.’ He offered his hand to David and pumped it proudly. ‘If you can tame my daughter, get her to settle down, we’d be forever grateful.’

David’s smile was one of slight relief. He’d found out where Eden was staying. She was all right. She hadn’t left town. She hadn’t given up on him. ‘I doubt
anyone
can tame Eden. Besides, I think she’s perfect just the way she is.’

Hal beamed. ‘Welcome to the family, son.’

David needed to prove to Eden that he was worth taking a risk with. Sasha wanted them to be together, and so did Hal, but it was Eden who mattered and David had to keep reminding himself that he hadn’t won
her
over…yet. He needed to convince her that he was serious, that he believed in her, believed in them, and that despite what the future might hold he wanted it to be the two of them together—for ever.

But how? How could he? After a moment David stood. ‘Listen, Hal, do you have a ladder I could borrow?’

‘I’m so glad the hospital let you come,’ Eden said to Sasha as she gathered the dinner plates.

‘You and me both. Sister thought as I’d managed to survive the other night at a restaurant, I could manage a sedate family dinner.’

‘It’s like old times,’ Gretchen said, helping her daughter. ‘Only David’s missing. Where did David say he was tonight, Hal?’

Hal thought for a moment, then shrugged. ‘He said he had some business to take care of.’

‘It was a wonderful meal, Mrs Caplan,’ Sasha commented, wanting to change the subject. Her brother had called her to let her know what he had planned, which was why Sasha had insisted on wangling an invitation to dinner. She wasn’t going to miss this moment for anything.

‘Thank you, dear. Todd, take those plates from Eden—you too, Hal. The two of you can be on dish duty tonight.’

‘Well, if it’s the men’s turn,’ Robert said, ‘I’d better help, too.’

‘They only have to stack the dishwasher,’ Eden said. ‘How hard is that?’

‘For your father and brother?’ Gretchen said. ‘It could take quite a while. They both have their own system, and they argue over which one is the most effective. Now, why don’t you get the things you bought today, Eden, while I wheel Sasha into the living room? Then we can have a bit of a girly time looking at clothes and shoes.’

‘Mum bought me way too much. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it all.’ Eden started towards the stairs, but stopped when she heard a strange noise. ‘What on earth is that?’ she asked, heading over to the window. Gretchen followed, and both of them peered out.

Dogs up and down the street were beginning to bark, but the noise continued and it sounded very close. Eden went to the front door and walked outside, down the steps onto the grass, searching for the sound. She turned and glanced up at the roof, her heart catching in her throat.

‘David! What are you doing up there?’

‘Serenading you,’ he called back, and began to sing once more. He was standing on the roof of her father’s house, balancing very carefully. He was wearing a tuxedo and held one single long stemmed rose in his hands.

The rest of her family came out, with Todd and Robert carrying Sasha’s wheelchair down the steps.

‘You’re supposed to be on the ground and I’m supposed to be up high if you’re going to serenade correctly,’ she called, but he continued to sing. Badly.

It
was
awful, and he was fumbling a lot of the words, which only made him sound worse, but she loved every wrong note he sang. Eden laughed at the total ridiculousness of the man, clapping her hands in delight, unable to believe he was doing what he was doing. When David broke out of his shell he
broke out
!

‘At least we have a doctor around if he falls,’ Hal commented.

‘Come down!’ she called, but he continued singing—if you could call it that. ‘You’re scaring the animals in the neighbourhood,’ she tried, and finally he finished.

Then he looked down at her and smiled.

‘I love you, Eden,’ he said, and then lifted his head and yelled to the entire neighbourhood, ‘I love Eden Caplan.’

She laughed, unable to believe he was
actually
shouting from the rooftops that he loved her.

‘Why is he up there?’ Gretchen asked. ‘What’s wrong with the ground?’

‘It’s romantic.’ Sasha sighed, and clasped her hands to her chest.

‘Oh,’ was all Gretchen said.

Eden saw the ladder, and knew if he wasn’t going to come down then she was going to go up—and that was exactly what she did, climbing carefully onto the roof. She stood and headed over to him, watching where she was putting her feet.

‘Be careful,’ he said when he spotted her, and reached out a hand, grasping hers and steadying her when she missed her step. When they were next to each other, he looked down into her eyes. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he whispered.

‘I’ve missed you, too,’ she said. ‘It’s just like you to be so literal.’

‘Hey, you wanted me to shout it from the rooftops and I have. The serenading was something I came up with all by myself.’ The smile on his face began to fade. ‘You’ve said a few times that Sasha is the only person who’s ever really cared about you, and I want you to know that’s not entirely true. She’s not the
only
person, Eden. I’ve cared about you for far longer than I’ve been willing to admit to myself. I’m sorry, Eden. Sorry for hurting you, for rejecting you, for not listening to you. Can you please forgive me?’

‘Why?’

‘Because I love you.
I love her!
’ he shouted again, and she laughed.

‘You’re crazy.’

‘You’ve taught me everything I know in that department.’ He waited a beat, then said seriously, ‘I’m sorry about the other day. I was just so overwhelmed that you weren’t put off by my revelation that I didn’t want to believe what I was hearing.’

‘I love you, David.
You.
If we can’t have our own children, that’s fine.’ She shrugged one elegant shoulder. ‘We’ll adopt.’

He widened his eyes. ‘Just like that? Adopt?’

Eden’s smile continued to grow as she pushed her fingers lovingly through his hair. ‘Have you forgotten where I’ve been working? Many of my assignments have been at orphanages. There are so many children out there with no one to love them. You and I both know that love is what matters, not bloodlines.’

He nodded. ‘Every child needs love.’

‘And we’ll give it. Look at your friends Chloe and Michael. They’ve adopted a little Tarparniian boy, and he probably won’t be their last.’ She laced her hands behind his head. ‘We can
do
this, David. We really can. I believe it with all my heart. We
can
be parents—parents who will shower their children with love.’

David couldn’t believe how incredible this woman was. She gave and she gave and she just kept on giving. He vowed right then and there to always give back to her. He would support her, help her to remain strong and support the gift she had. Together they could do so much, share so much of themselves, so much of their love.

‘Eden, I need you in my life. I’ve loved you for so long, but I was just too preoccupied with my own sadness to notice. I let it eat away at my life, and because of that I almost missed my chance at true happiness.’

She smiled at him. ‘You didn’t miss it, sexy boy. I’m still here.’

‘Marry me? Be my wild-child wife?’

‘Wife, eh?’

‘I want you to marry me. No.’ He stopped, and her heart caught in her throat. ‘I
need
you to be my wife.’

She looked into his eyes, seeing the commitment, and the love, as well as the passion and the desire. ‘Really?’ she whispered.

‘Yes.’ He laughed. ‘
Please
, yes.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’re the other half of me,’ he replied. ‘Where we live, how many children we adopt, where we work—that’s all semantics. I realise that now. I need to know you’ll be with me, Eden. Side by side. Together. For ever.’

‘I love you,’ she said. ‘So very, very much, David.’

‘Is that a yes?’

‘You bet it is. Besides, after your public display of affection, how could I refuse?’

At that, his mouth met hers.

This was the very beginning of their life as Mr and Mrs Perfectly Happy—which was what Eden had been striving for her whole life.

‘Are you two ever coming down?’ Sasha called with excited impatience, making Eden laugh.

Eden didn’t rush to end the kiss, but when he lifted his mouth from hers she allowed David to help her towards the ladder. He kissed her lips once more.

‘After you, my wild-child.’

‘Thank you, my tone-deaf serenader.’

When they were on the ground, and after they’d been congratulated and hugged by their family, David took her in his arms once more.

‘We are so perfect for each other.’

‘Mmm,’ Eden said, pressing her mouth to his. ‘Told you so.’

I’d like to especially thank my editor, Lucy Gilmour,
for her suggestions, encouragement and belief
in my manuscripts.

Thank you always to Anna Campbell,
Rachel Bailey and Marion Lennox.
You are the best!

Thank you, too, to Judy Griffiths and Serena Tatti
for your input on this book.

And especially thanks to my husband, Glenn,
for his unstinting support with everything!

J
ACK
C
AMPBELL
slipped into the hospital room and closed the door. Muted sounds of the emergency department filtered through to him, the jingle of an instrument trolley, the squeak of a rubber-soled shoe.

The pungent smell of antiseptic. A decades-old aversion leaped across the years to roll nausea through his stomach. For a split second, he was thirteen years old again—wretched, angry, useless—listening to nurses discuss the rapidly failing infant that had just come in. His sister, his family.

He blew out a breath, made a conscious effort to push down the unwelcome, unhelpful recollection.

He was here to see Liz.

Dr Elizabeth Campbell…his wife…He clenched his jaw. Soon-to-be ex-wife if she had anything to do with it.

She lay on a gurney, her back towards him. A grey blanket skimmed the curves of her shoulder and hip. Dark curls tumbled across a small, flat pillow. His fingers curled involuntarily with the memory of the silky strands slipping across his skin. They had a lot of talking, a lot of healing to do before he could look forward to that intimacy.

A louder clatter came from outside the door. So used to the background noise of the hospital, Liz still didn’t wake, didn’t even stir. She always slept serenely, such a contrast to the snapping vitality she radiated when she was awake.

The duty nurse said Liz had been up for most of the night treating the victims of a nasty car accident.

He suddenly realised the nurse’s welcome had been much warmer than he deserved. Hadn’t Liz told her colleagues that her marriage—
their
marriage—was on shaky ground? His spirits lifted briefly, then plunged as he wondered if the state of their relationship was simply an insignificant detail to her, not worth mentioning.

He leaned back against the door and ran a tired hand over his face. Whiskers scraped his palm, reminding him that he should have showered and shaved at the airport after the long flight from the States. Instead, he’d hired a car and driven more hours to be here.

To see the woman who slept so soundly just a few steps away.

So why was he delaying the moment of confrontation?

Dread spasmed in his gut. Because he didn’t know how she was going to handle his return. Now that he was here, his five months away with minimal communication felt unreasonable—even given their mutual separation. Stilted phone calls, always with the unspoken knowledge that once their marriage was dissolved, they had no claim on each other.

How would she take the decisions he’d made without consulting her? Accepting the position of captain in Dustin’s fire brigade.

Not giving her the easy divorce he’d promised before he’d left.

Somewhere in the last few months of battling fires in California, he’d realised how important Liz was to him. What a fool he’d been to think it would be easy to move on.

He’d even come to the conclusion he could handle discussing parenthood. He tried to imagine Liz heavy with pregnancy—and failed. Tried to picture himself holding a baby—and an icy chill speared out of his heart. He swallowed hard. All he had to do was overcome that instinctive rejection. That was
all
.

He wanted to fight for his marriage, to tackle their problems. And when they were done, if she still wanted him out of her life, then he’d go.

He touched the pocket that held two open airline tickets to New Zealand. Tickets to the place they’d begun their marriage. Tickets to paradise. An inspiration…or a crazy idea born of desperation.

Squaring his shoulders, he pushed away from the door. Long strides took him to the gurney.

He reached out to touch Liz, his hand hovering over her shoulder before slowly dropping to his side. His eyes lingered on her profile, the curve of her cheek, eyelashes curled in smudgy purple shadows that spoke of tiredness. She took on so much responsibility, worked too hard. But there was no telling her to slow down. A bitter-sweet longing pierced his heart to see her looking so young and vulnerable.

On impulse, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek just in front of her ear. Her skin was warm and soft. She sighed. He inhaled the heady fragrance of the woman he loved, intended to love for the rest of his life. If he could find a way to turn things around, if he could find a way to overcome his fear. He had to believe it was possible.

She rolled slightly, reaching up to hook a hand around his neck. Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging his head closer as she offered him her mouth.

He wrestled with his conscience. Her invitation was hard to resist. But she still seemed half-asleep, which was unusual since she was used to waking instantly. ‘Liz?’

‘Jack,’ she murmured, her hand stroking across the nape of his neck.

His heart swelled. She knew who he was. He stopped questioning, touched his mouth to hers, sinking into the welcome taste and texture. He was home.

Lips moved on hers. The wonderful, clever, knowing lips of her husband, her lover. At once familiar and unbelievably exciting, flooding her body with sensual need. Kissing her, nibbling and rubbing sensitive nerve endings to life. The familiar feel, a haven conjured up by a dream.

She parted her lips in invitation, wanting more and after a moment the light kiss became more demanding, firm and masterful. The taste of him, the feel of him, so infinitely beloved. Something she never wanted to lose. The thought brought a lump of emotion to her throat. Hot tears pushed at her eyelids before seeping out to trickle down her temple into her ears.

The lips drifted away to work their magic along her jaw.

‘Jack.’

Arching slightly, she gave him access to her throat and the delicious caress was instantly there to please her. Bliss. She ached for his touch everywhere.

Stubble rasped across her chin as he moved back to her mouth, a mixture of pleasure and discomfort. Why couldn’t she have dreamed him up after he’d shaved? She tried to push the fretful thought away, not wanting to spoil the precious moment.

‘Liz,’ groaned her dream lover. Her eyes flew open as the word smashed away the last vestiges of sleep.

‘What the—? Jack!’ The rhythm of her heart bounded, painful and erratic with panic. She sat up abruptly, her head connecting with something hard.

‘Hell, Liz!’ The muffled protest behind her registered as she swung her feet to the floor and stood up. She put a hand on the gurney’s metal frame and gulped down the slide of queasiness crawling up her throat.

Steadier, she took a deep breath and folded her arms protectively across her body. She turned slowly to stare at the man on the other side of the narrow mattress.

‘Just what do you think you’re doing?’ She’d meant the words to come out strong, determined. Outraged. Instead, she sounded almost husky, breathless.

Jack’s hand stopped moving his lower jaw and fell to his side. The room seemed to lurch again as he gave her a lopsided smile.

‘Kissing my wife?’ The sexy voice stroked along her auditory nerves. So much more potent when he was in the room with her than on the other end of a phone line.

She scowled as his answer drew her attention to his mouth. The gorgeous shape with its full bottom lip still tilted up at one corner. In her semi-conscious state, her lips had recognised him, welcomed his much-loved caress, responded to him. And if she was honest, she’d known on some level that her dream was too good, too real. But in the ultimate selfbetrayal, she’d resisted the push to full awareness.

‘I’m not your wife.’ Her lips felt swollen, tremulous. Her traitorous body still hummed with the need his kiss had created.

‘Yeah, you are.’

Muscles tightened around her chest. She wasn’t prepared for this scene. ‘Technically, yes. In reality, no.’

‘Technically is what we’ve got, babe.’ He watched her through narrowed eyes as though trying to gauge the emotion underlying her negative response. ‘And what we have to talk about.’

‘We did all our talking before you left.’ She frowned at him. ‘And don’t call me babe.’

Why did he have to look so damned good? Big and rugged and fit. Tussled spikes of dark hair above a lean, angular face. She had to remember that underneath the stunning exterior he was cold, contained.

Untouchable. Her vulnerable heart squeezed. Common sense hadn’t stopped her from falling for a man just like her distant, unresponsive father.

She and Jack were separated. Had agreed on it before he’d gone on secondment to the States. His months away fighting summer wildfires had given her a chance to get used to him not being around. There was no going back. She couldn’t. Too much was at stake now.

She wasn’t going to settle for a half-life, the way her mother had. Two years was more than enough time to invest in a mistake.

Of course, the marriage wasn’t their only mistake.

She buttoned her lab coat, carefully holding the fabric away from her body. Thank goodness for the large, shapeless garment. And the light in here was fairly subdued. If she could just get out of the room…

‘You can’t just walk away from me, Liz. I’m not going anywhere until we’ve worked this through.’

‘Please yourself.’ With shaking fingers, she looped the stethoscope around her neck then stuffed her fists into the large coat pockets. ‘Unlike you, I have work to do.’

She wasn’t being fair to him. He’d been away, risking his life. But fair didn’t matter right now.

Escape!
That was all that mattered. Making a show of checking her watch, she went to walk past him.

At the last moment, he moved to stop her. Dumb luck had his hand land on the one thing she didn’t want to discuss with him right now. She froze as an energetic thud bounced out of her abdomen to greet his touch.

His mouth dropped open as he snatched his hand away and looked down at her distended belly. She could still feel the imprint of his fingers through the heavy fabric of the coat.

‘You’re…’ His eyes, dark blue and stunned, blinked back up to meet hers. He was so close that, despite the dimness, she could see the shock in the sudden pallor of his face. ‘You’re pregnant.’

‘Yes.’ She watched creases form at the edges of his eyes, could almost see the cogs turning over in his mind.

Was he doing the arithmetic? Their last attempt at talking about reconciliation had been a doozey. And she’d been incubating the results of their
discussion
for nearly six months now.

‘Is it mine?’

Pain washed over her, snatching the breath from her lungs. Such cruelty from the mouth that had just kissed her so sweetly, so lovingly.

‘Charming, Jack,’ she said, squaring her shoulders and refusing to let him see how much he’d hurt her. ‘Are you judging me by your own behaviour?’

She pushed past him and walked towards the door on rubbery knees. She hated scenes, but for five months she’d known this one was unavoidable.

‘Liz!’

She blinked blurriness out of her vision and kept walking. Whatever he had to say could wait. But Jack was too quick for her. His hand on her arm stopped her before she could reach the door.

‘I’m sorry.’

Her jaw dropped at the gruff words. An apology. That was new. She looked up at him.

‘Yes, well…I am sorry. That was out of line.’ He released her to run his hand through his hair, leaving tufts standing in its wake. His eyes, when they met hers, were wary. She could see his mouth working as though he was having trouble speaking, forming words. ‘That last time we…?’ The partial sentence was little more than a croak.

‘I would think so, yes.’

‘So you’re about five months along?’

‘Closer to six, actually.’ She stroked a protective hand over her stomach. Given the bizarre gymnastics the rest of her system was doing at the moment, she was vaguely surprised that her womb wasn’t being used for somersault practice. Couldn’t the baby sense her mother’s distress? Or perhaps that’s why she was so still.

Jack’s eyes followed the movement of her hand, a dazed look on his face. ‘We’re going to be parents in, what, three months?’ His throat moved in a convulsive swallow. ‘Twelve weeks?’

Her heart swooped, a dozen answers trembling on her tongue. But the last thing she wanted right now was to prolong this discussion. Liz settled for a simple, ‘Close enough.’ They could argue the semantics of parenthood another time.

‘We’ve got more to talk about than I’d realised.’ His eyes held a solemn appeal when they met hers.

‘Perhaps, but not now.’ She hardened her heart against the treacherous impulse to believe he could change. He’d just been caught off guard, his apology was evidence of how much. ‘I really do have work to do. Are you…? Where are you…?’ The words dried up on her tongue.

‘Staying?’ An eyebrow quirked as his dark eyes watched her quizzically. ‘At home. Unless there’s a reason why I shouldn’t.’

‘No. I…suppose it’ll be okay…for a while…It’s just that…’ She trailed off again. She couldn’t go back to the peculiar segregated life they’d been living before. Sharing a house, but not themselves. A half-life masquerading as a marriage. She’d used long hours at work to escape the house before Jack had gone overseas. That wasn’t an option these days because she was too tired.

‘Damn, Liz…What do you think I’m going to do?’ He grimaced, his eyes shuttered. She was left with the fleeting impression that she’d hurt him. ‘I’m still house-trained.’ His lopsided smile was meant to disarm. ‘And I haven’t jumped on an unwilling woman for at least a month. Let alone one who’s
pregnant
and unwilling.’

Did that mean he
had
jumped on a
willing
woman while he was away? She lifted her chin in rejection of the picture his words conjured up. What did it matter to her if he had been with someone? Once they were divorced, he could be with any damned woman he fancied.

She wanted a divorce…didn’t she?

Suddenly, hot moisture burned beneath her eyelids, threatened to spill over. Bending her head for a few moments, she pulled at the wrinkled front of her coat as though straightening it was the most important thing in her life.

She heard him take a deep breath.

‘Look, Liz, I’m tired. Can we have this discussion later, too? I’ll use the spare bed if it’ll make you happier.’