A Father for Her Baby. Sue MacKay

GCS was nine when I first checked Lucy and it hasn’t changed,’ Sasha informed him. ‘She came round twice very briefly earlier and asked about Sam, before losing consciousness again.’

      The Glasgow Coma Index. Borderline severe. Not a good sign. Grady’s fingers worked along Lucy’s hairline then over her head. ‘I’m guessing she hit the dashboard when the truck flipped.’

      ‘The wound above her temple was still bleeding moderately when I reached her.’

      He gently lifted the padding at one corner. ‘It’s stopped now.’

      ‘One thing to be thankful for.’ Sasha’s tone was perfectly reasonable, normal. Totally unaffected by his presence.

      Guess she’d long got over him. Which, considering her pregnancy, should be mighty obvious even to his sluggish brain. He must’ve done a good job of telling her to get on with her life without him in it because the results were very clear. Sash was going to become a mother in a few months’ time. She hadn’t done that on her own.

      The green-eyed monster lifted its head, roared inside his skull. Who was the lucky bastard? Did he treat her well? Did she love him? Completely and utterly? Passionately? Of course she did. That was the only way Sash did anything. Grady wiped his hands down his jeans, removing a sudden coating of sweat. ‘We need to splint Lucy’s arm.’

      He’d spoken more brusquely than he’d intended and received a perfectly arched eyebrow kind of glare for his trouble. ‘Sure.’

      It was as easy as that for Sash. Except her fingers had a slight tremble as she handed him the splint. Interesting. And confusing. Talk about mixed messages. Not only were those fingers trembling, they were covered in rings. Was one of them a wedding ring? The silver one on her wedding ring finger had a tiny butterfly etched into the metal. Not a likely wedding ring, even for Sasha.

      They worked quickly and efficiently, routine emergency care that neither of them had any difficulty with. Grady asked in as nonchalant a voice as he could manage, ‘Where have you been working? Before Takaka?’ Sasha had been planning on starting her training only weeks after the last time they’d been together. They’d finished high school and had been enjoying their last summer holidays before hitting the adult world.

      ‘In the emergency department at Christchurch Hospital for a year.’ She gently lowered Lucy’s arm by her side. ‘Now I’m the community nurse around here while the centre’s usual nurse is on maternity leave.’

      ‘Must be something in the water,’ Grady muttered.

      ‘Here I’d been thinking it was all to do with loving relationships.’ Suddenly her tone could have slayed rampaging bulls.

      A quick glance showed the anger spitting out at him from those beautiful emerald eyes. Anger and something else he couldn’t make out. Hurt? Disappointment? It had come and gone so fast he didn’t have time to work out exactly what that emotion had been.

      ‘Sash, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound flippant.’ Once he’d have been able to say anything to her and get away with it. That had been before bust-up day. Eleven birthdays and Christmases ago. A doctor’s degree ago. Two broken relationships ago. Relationships he hadn’t cared enough about to make work.

      ‘My name is Sasha.’ Words as cold as that ice outside fell into the silence.

      Not to me you’re not. His heart cracked wide open at her rebuff. He hadn’t set out to be overly friendly by using his pet name for her. But he’d always called her Sash. He hadn’t learned not to. All these years he’d thought about Sash, not Sasha. That was everyone else’s name for her. She used to protest at anyone calling her Sash—except him. Seemed he’d been relegated to the slush heap. His shrug was deliberate and heavy. ‘Sasha.’

      The door opened and cold air hit them as Mike and the guys hoisted the second stretcher on board with Mr Donovon strapped down tight.

      Their patient roused himself enough to croak out, ‘How’s Lucy?’

      ‘She’s stable, Sam.’ Sasha held the older guy’s hand for a moment, spoke in a very caring way, nothing like she’d talked to him. ‘I’m glad you’re out of that truck.’

      ‘You and me both, lass.’

      Mike nudged his way between Grady and Sasha. ‘Let’s take a look at you, Sam, before we get on our way.’

      ‘Are you driving over to Nelson?’ Sasha’s eyes widened. ‘I’ve just come over the hill and it’s not good. Took me a lot longer than normal.’

      ‘No choice. The rescue helicopter flew to Wellington on an emergency run four hours ago and has been grounded after a wind gust flicked it sideways, causing damage to a rotor,’ Mike explained. ‘Jonty has offered to drive while Rebecca and I keep an eye on these two.’

      Rebecca poked her head through from the front, where she’d been having no luck in her attempts to raise the Nelson ED on the radio. ‘I don’t have a lot of confidence driving on ice, whereas Jonty’s had plenty of practice.’

      ‘You want me to come along?’ Grady asked Mike. ‘I’m happy to help.’ Though it was getting crowded in here.

      Mike shook his head as he cut down through the centre of Sam’s trouser leg. ‘No point in all of us missing out on a night’s sleep. Rebecca and I can handle this. Grady, you hitch a ride back with Sasha. She lives on her parents’ property, close by your house.’ Mike really didn’t have a clue about anything.

      He saw Sash stiffen for a brief moment. Then she returned to helping Mike, for all the world completely unperturbed by the other doctor’s suggestion. Mike’s idea made perfect sense. She lived very close to his house. He used to be able to get to Sasha’s in under a minute on his motorbike if the road was clear. Bloody lucky he’d never come off on that tight corner by the Wilsons’ gate. ‘Okay with you, Sasha?’ he drawled.

      Why did his mind play these games to annoy her when really all he wanted was a bit of peace for the rest of his stay here? He must quit giving the woman a hard time. She hadn’t asked for him to barge back into her life. ‘I can go back with the fire truck if you’d prefer.’

      Her mouth tightened, her eyes darkened, and she tugged those small shoulders back hard, automatically pushing that baby bump further out between them. She wouldn’t back down from what she’d been asked to do. But she glared at him as she said, ‘Might as well come with me. I warn you I’m not in a hurry. Too much ice to drive like I’m handling a racing car.’

      Now, that was something new. Sash had always driven like she had to win. ‘Works for me.’

      ‘Let’s go.’ Sasha was blunt. ‘I’m more than ready to be home tucked up in bed for what’s left of the night.’

      Air whooshed out of his lungs. Sash and bed. The memories he’d been trying to deny for the last thirty minutes reared up bright and dazzling. Sash—gregarious, generous, sexy, funny. A full-on, crazy, risk-taking kind of girl. An exciting, adventurous lover whose kisses had always left him breathless. And wanting more of her. What he wouldn’t do for one of those now.

      Huh? Man, he had a problem, and he was about to hitch a ride with her. He watched her carefully lower to the ground, holding onto the safety rail in case her feet went from under her. So unlike the Sash he knew. But he wanted, needed, to get to know this version.

      Mike tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Sorry about dragging you up here, but that’s Golden Bay for us medicos. The isolation means no one can ever totally relax.’

      ‘No problem,’ he answered mechanically, his eyes still fixed on Sash as she moved away awkwardly, taking each step extra-carefully. Her back ramrod straight, her head high. He knew her chin would be jutting forward, her mouth tight.

      Exactly like that last time he’d seen her. On the sand at Pohara Beach below Dad’s house, now his house. She’d turned to walk away from him, the summer wind flattening her burnished gold curls and sandblasting her arms.