The Single Dad's Marriage Wish (Bachelor Dads) (11 page)

‘I’m scared it will all start again.’

‘It might,’ Charlotte said, watching as he blinked at her honesty. ‘Only this time you’re not going to hope it will go away, you’re not going to hope things will get better or that they’ll move on. You’re going to speak up and out—every time, no matter how hard it is at first.’

‘Did you?’

‘In the end.’ Charlotte nodded. ‘Andy, I’m sure those boys are in a lot of trouble, the school was very worried when they found out all that’s happened…’

‘What do can they do? Ooh, you just don’t get it.’ Andy shook his head and rolled over in bed, turning his back on her. ‘And I know that you lied to me…’ Andy ripped off his new glasses and tossed them on the locker.

‘When did I lie to you?’ Charlotte frowned. ‘I’ve come to see you every time I said I would.’

‘Not about that…when you said you knew how I felt, when you said you knew how scary it was to be picked on, well, I know that you lied to me.’

‘I wish I had been lying,’ Charlotte said. ‘I wish I had been, but I wasn’t. I
was
telling the truth, Andy.’ She looked at his serious, doubting face and suddenly it was imperative that he believe her—imperative that this little, scared boy could know that someone big and grown up, and in his eyes beautiful, could one day have visited the place he inhabited now. ‘Look, I have to go
back down to Emergency, but tonight when my shifts finished I’ll come up and talk to you.’ Charlotte took a deep breath. ‘Really talk to you—and I’ll tell you how it was for me.’

‘Promise?’

She hesitated for a second before nodding—oh, she couldn’t lumber this little guy with all of it, but a slice of her truth might just help.

‘I promise.’

‘S
ORRY
, baby.’ Burying her head in Fitz’s neck, Charlotte hugged him tightly. ‘You must be wondering what on earth has happened, what with me not coming to see you, a new home, and no Sco—’ She couldn’t say his name yet, but she’d work on it.

She’d ended up staying for ages at the hospital, telling her story to Andy, and whatever psychologist had come up with the theory that exploring one’s past was healthy clearly hadn’t had much of one! The hours spent talking to Andy had been followed by an hour sitting in the deserted staff canteen, utterly drained and drinking cola, trying to summon up the mental and physical energy to drive. By the time she’d got home she had been just too exhausted to drag herself down to the stables. Still, Hamish clearly had thought to. Fitz was wearing his rug and she made a mental note to thank him—or not.

He’d been downright rude at work—had been in bed when she’d come in last night and had recoiled as if she were poison when they’d collided on the landing at two
in the morning, Hamish racing to get to Bailey, Charlotte racing to get to the loo.

Staring over at the house, seeing the light flick on in the kitchen, for the zillionth time Charlotte wondered how she should be with him, gulping at how difficult things were between them right now and wondering if they would ever get better.

Maybe she should move out, Charlotte thought as she saddled up Fitz. Maybe if they just saw each other at work, they could sort of start over. Now that Scottie wasn’t burning her money, she could move back to the youth hostel, work an extra shift for Fitz’s fees and maybe put Maisy and Eric into kennels till she found somewhere that didn’t mind pets.

But who’d look after Bailey?

Someone would—of course they would—but it wouldn’t be her, and that hurt, hurt more than she dared admit.

Hurt as much as, maybe even more than, the prospect of losing Hamish.

In just a short time she’d truly come to love him—his cheeky smile, his complete adoration of her—sort of a gorgeous mini-Hamish, only without the scowl! She could barely look at Bailey without breaking down, furious with herself for messing things up and dreading having to let go.

Fitz was as unenthusiastic at the prospect of an early morning ride as his owner. Left out in the paddock, he had grown fat and lazy and, to boot, seemed to have forgotten all he’d learnt. It took more than a few kicks and a good hit with her crop just to get him to walk a few steps.

‘Come on, Fitz!’ Charlotte urged, her legs tired and heavy and already just a bit out of breath, and they were only a few steps through the gate. ‘Come on!’ She shouted, summoning her energy and giving him the boot, but it wasn’t the deft kick from his owner that had him moving, but the very unfamiliar sound of her angry voice that had his fat body shooting into a rapid trot. Charlotte, caught by surprise, lost her left stirrup, her weight tipping to the right in the saddle for a moment as Fitz surged on, and it took all the energy she didn’t have this morning to right herself, before pulling him to a halt and then jumping down.

‘I’m sorry.’ She was nearly crying as she spoke, tired and scared and more than a bit angry at herself for being so mean when he was missing his friend. ‘That was all my fault, Fitz, not yours—you’ve had a rotten few days and so have I. We’ll have a gentle walk after my shift…’ Taking a few deep breaths, Charlotte willed herself calm, took him by the reins and started to walk back to the stables. It seemed to take for ever. Even untacking him was an effort and for the first time she actually wondered if it wasn’t just the rotten few days that were making her feel so awful…

‘Not this week,’ Charlotte moaned. The
last
thing she needed was a cold or worse—she had just way too much on. Glimpsing her week ahead, it seemed was insurmountable. She was tempted to just head to home and bed and pull the sheets over her heads till the whole blessed thing was over.

If she still had a home, that was!

Muddy and grubby, dressed in faded jodhpurs and a jumper full of holes, to Bailey she was beautiful.

‘Dar-dot!’ Banging his spoon in delight as she came in, he struggled to get her attention.

‘Oh, hi, Bailey…’ Charlotte gave Bailey a distracted smile, and watching her turn her back on a little guy who loved her, just putting a slice of bread into the toaster and watching
it
rather than talking to
him
, was, for Hamish, the hardest part.

Seeing Bailey whining and miserable, already way too used to her usually lavish attention, Hamish could see in his hurt face that he was completely unable fathom what he’d done wrong, wondering why she wasn’t coming over to the highchair and pinching one of his toast soldiers as she usually did, why she wasn’t begging his dad to turn to the horoscope page in the newspaper. And when she continued to stare at the blessed toaster Hamish was sorely tempted to get up and tap her on the shoulder and tell her exactly what he thought of her behaviour!

But what would be the point?

Sure, he might guilt her into feigning a few more kisses for Bailey, then he’d have to sit back and watch as his little heart was broken all over again.

‘Come on, Bailey.’ Hamish turned the highchair round more to face him. ‘Let’s finish your breakfast.’

‘Thanks for settling Fitz last night.’ Yawning, she looked over. ‘I got stuck at work.’

Funny that Belinda had called him last night from a casual evening shift in A and E out of sheer boredom because the place had been unusually empty!

‘I thought things were quiet there last night…’ he started, then stopped himself. What was the point? ‘How was your ride?’

‘Great…’ Charlotte answered, and he watched in silence as she buttered her toast then came over to the table where he was frowning, seriously wondering now if everything she had ever said had been a lie.

He’d
seen
her nearly fall from the kitchen window, had looked up as he’d finished slicing up Bailey’s toast and with heart in mouth had seen Fitz start to panic as Charlotte had briefly lost control. Seeing her shift in the saddle and that brief struggle to right herself, his first instinct had been to rush out…

Not that she’d have appreciated his concern, Hamish thought darkly.

‘Dar-dot!’ As a last resort Bailey held out a half-chewed toast soldier towards her, but she barely looked up. He just didn’t get her—fifteen minutes ago she’d been with Fitz, gently walking him back, showering him with the hugs and kisses, yet now here she sat, snubbing the innocent victim in this grown-up mess, and Hamish knew for his son’s sake he had to step in—had to try to and wean Bailey off her, before his beloved Dar-dot disappeared forever!

‘It’s Alicia’s birthday today.’

‘Alicia.’ Charlotte frowned.

She cared more about her bloody animals than humans, Hamish thought savagely, or, at least, as long as they were alive! ‘My niece,’ he said tightly. ‘Anyway, Belinda’s going to pick Bailey up from crèche and have
him over for a birthday tea, so you don’t have to worry about collecting him or anything.’

‘Fine.’ She put down the slice of toast that she’d barely nibbled the edges of and refilled her glass of orange juice which she’d downed in one. ‘You know, I’m not really that hungry. I think I’ll go and have my shower. You get dressed, young man.’ She smiled over at Bailey who, starved of attention from her, promptly melted. ‘I’ll be down in a bit to take you in.’

‘No need,’ Hamish said, unclipping Hamish and picking him up from his highchair. ‘I’m starting a bit later this morning—I’ll take him in with me.’

‘Fine.’ Charlotte gave a tight smile.

‘Good.’ Hamish didn’t even attempt one back, just headed upstairs and dressed Bailey, taking an inordinate amount of time to do so, waiting till she was in the shower before driving to work and taking Bailey into crèche.

‘Hamish!’ Lucy stopped talking to whoever it was she was talking to and, a plastic bag in her hand, made her way over. ‘The musical potty I was telling you about. I was just about to leave it for you.’

‘Thanks!’ Hamish actually managed a smile, though it was more a wry one at Charlotte than at the woman standing in front of him. ‘That’s really
nice
of you.’

‘Actually, I was hoping to catch you.’ Despite a
lot
of foundation, there was a blush creeping up her cheeks. ‘Look, I know you’re on your own. I am, too. I was thinking we should get together sometimes…’

‘Yeah,’ Hamish said carefully, ‘I was thinking I should have a few of Bailey’s little friends over one weekend.’

‘I wasn’t talking about the kids!’

And maybe he should be feeling flattered, Hamish thought as he made his way back to the department, but all he felt was…

Tired.

Sitting at the nurses’ station, he flicked through the internal post, and now that Charlotte wouldn’t be doing it for him, he had a quick flick through the internally advertised vacancies. Helen chatted on, but he wasn’t even pretending to listen.

God, did everyone think it was that easy? He could almost hear their thought processes, had seen the eyebrows raised when Charlotte had moved in.
Oh, well, it’s been eighteen months now, it’s probably about time he started to move on…

But it wasn’t about sex.

Or finding a wife or a mother for Bailey.

And it definitely wasn’t loneliness or boredom—he’d give his back teeth even to glimpse the luxury of those two.

It was about missing Emma and now missing Charlotte.

Missing two beautiful women who had at different times and stages graced his life and trying to work his way through it.

Maybe he should try and date his way through his misery, Hamish mused, take up every one of those thinly veiled offers and try screwing his way out of this hell—after all, it seemed to work for Charlotte!

The ringing of the emergency phone snapped him out of his misery, and for once he beat Helen to
answering it, listening to the details from the ambulance control as Helen hovered close by.

‘Snakebite.’ Hamish said grimly, hanging up the receiver and pressing the bell on the desk that alerted all resus staff to make their way over. ‘Definite snake-bite to the leg in a twelve-year-old boy. Collapsed, hypotensive, he’ll be here in ten!’

For a twelve-year-old, Jordan Reece was a rather big boy and although being overweight wasn’t considered healthy—it was one of the factors that might just his life. Venomous snakes were found in Victoria, especially in rural areas, and the hot, dry weather was doing its part in bringing them out. Jordan had been bitten on the calf by an unknown breed of snake while messing around at playtime in the sheds at the back of his school, but prompt attention of friends in alerting the teachers and immediate first aid applied by the school nurse had been invaluable.

A pressure bandage had been applied and his limb immobilised, but even with the correct first aid treatment for a snakebite, by the time he was in the helicopter and on his way to hospital he had collapsed, arriving in Emergency with ominous signs—dangerously low blood pressure and convulsing.

‘Right.’ Hamish never missed a beat—ordering bloods, fluids and drugs, then deciding to anaesthetise and intubate as the team worked hard to stabilise this desperately ill child.

‘Sounds like a brown snake,’ the paramedic called out as Hamish swabbed the wound on Jordan’s leg. The venom detection kit was needed to confirm the
breed of snake that had struck. ‘One of the kids got a pretty good look at him and knows the breeds.’

‘Not enough to go on.’ Hamish shook his head. The VDK kit wasn’t used to determine whether or not anti-venom was required but to confirm the type that was needed. Giving antivenom was a medical decision based on the presentation of the victim and in this case the half-hour wait for the VDK test to come back was just too long. The administration of both brown and tiger snake antivenom, was the choice Hamish made—first pre-medicating Jordan to reduce the risk of anaphylactic reaction, before commencing the infusion of the vital antivenom.

‘What’s the bed status like in ICU?’ It was the first time Hamish had spoken for half an hour without giving an order, but slowly things were starting to calm down, at least for young Jordan. For the staff, the drama wasn’t anywhere near over—especially when the anaesthetist gave his familiar wry smile with his single word anwswer.

‘Guess!’

‘What were they thinking?’ Helen droned on as Hamish sat stuck on hold on the phone. ‘Or did you even stop to think?’

‘Oh, so it’s my fault.’ Hamish whistled through his teeth. ‘The fact there isn’t a single ICU bed in the state for a twelve-year-old is solely down to me?’

‘Well, all the meetings you went to, all the hours and hours this department had to go without a consultant while you were up in Admin, supposedly working out
this blessed “transition phase”. Did you not even once stop to think
where
we were going to be putting all the extra patients we would be getting?’

Probably not, Hamish was tempted to answer—tempted to remind her he’d been at Emma’s funeral a couple of weeks before the details of the ICU transition phase had been decided, tempted to say it but not wanting to pull out the sympathy card.

And more than a little bit angry with himself because, like it or not, Helen was just a little bit right.

Not that he’d tell her that now, though!

He adored Helen, considered her way more than a long-time colleague, but when she had a bee in her bonnet she was possibly the most irritating person he had met—and she had a full hive in there now! ‘There are more than a ninety new beds in the hospital,’ Hamish hissed, ‘and there are two more new wards opening next month. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m trying to find this child an ICU bed—preferably somewhere within the state.’

‘But, that’s exactly my point—there are only two new
adult
ICU beds and
one
more paediatric.’

‘And another three opening next week.’ Hamish gritted his teeth and willed the bed manager to answer his page and sort this blessed mess out, knowing that if he lost it now, he would explode. The hell of working with, living with and trying to avoid Charlotte
and
keep an even state of mind was proving an impossible feat!