Gold Coast Angels: Bundle of Trouble. Fiona Lowe

       CHAPTER TWO

      ‘HOW WAS SHE today?’ Luke asked, sitting at his sister’s outdoor table under the protective shadow of a huge shade sail and watching Amber running around the yard with her older cousins. He tried not to think about the fact he had to take her home to a quiet and empty house.

      ‘The kids ran her ragged and she napped for three hours straight,’ Steph said with an apologetic shrug. ‘I guess that means she’ll be hard to settle tonight. Sorry.’

      He thought about the hard-fought routine he’d established with his toddler daughter, all of which was about to change now he was returning to full-time work. ‘Hopefully, she’s running off more energy now and will snuggle down at seven.’

      His sister gave him a contemplative glance. ‘So, how was it?’

      ‘What?’ He was being deliberately obtuse just in case his perceptive sister was having an off day.

      ‘Being back at Gold Coast City?’

      The memory of the shocked expression of the nurses slugged him. ‘They didn’t know.’

      ‘Hell.’ Her hand touched his arm.

      ‘Yeah.’ He stirred the ice at the bottom of his glass. ‘I thought someone would have told them. I mean, hospitals are usually seething with gossip, rumour and innuendo, but just when I needed my personal life to be part of that mill, it wasn’t.’

      ‘I guess because it happened in France…’

      ‘Maybe.’ He drained his glass, trying not to think of that night when the gendarmes had told him his car had drifted onto the wrong side of the road. ‘I had to tell them, Steph. I had to watch their horror and then their sympathy. God, I thought by now I was over having to tell people. I thought at least that part would be done.’

      ‘It’ll get easier.’

      ‘Don’t say that.’ He glared at her, hating platitudes. He’d heard enough of them to know they only made the speaker feel better. Nothing was ever going to make him feel better. Nothing could erase the bald fact that he’d unwittingly killed his darling wife.

      Steph’s usually smiling mouth flattened. ‘We’ll always miss Anna. You know I meant walking into the hospital and talking with the staff will get easier. Try to look on the plus side. By the time you return on Thursday they’ll have digested the news and be onto something else. Besides, given the turnover of staff, half of them probably don’t even know you.’

      The image of a pair of hazel eyes framed by black-rimmed glasses, followed by a mane of glossy, chestnut hair, pinged into his mind. Eyes that seemed familiar and yet he felt sure that he’d never met the nurse before. If they’d met, he’d have remembered that particular combination of khaki-green flecked with brown. He knew that grief screwed with memory and his had been bad lately but, even so, she hadn’t shown any spark of recognition either. Hell, he really didn’t know why he was even thinking about her.

      He tried to stop the picture of her at those eyes but, like a movie reel, his brain recalled way more. In vivid detail, it rolled over her round, smiling face, her ruby-red lips that peaked in a delectable bow and her lush curves that no uniform could hide. Natural curves that in a bygone era women had embraced but which today so many tried to dominate into submission. Curves that said, I am all woman.

      His mouth dried as the same short, sharp kick of arousal he’d experienced the first time he’d seen her stirred again. He rubbed the back of his neck. God, what was wrong with him? Anna had only been dead just over a year and he missed her every single day. He didn’t want to look at other women, let alone lust after them.

      ‘You okay, Luke?’

      No. ‘Yep.’ He didn’t like the inquiring look in his sister’s eyes so he shifted conversational gears. ‘The daycare centre called and they can take Amber for the extra days each week while you’re away on your big trip.’

      Relief flitted across Steph’s face. ‘That’s good news. Of course, if you hadn’t sold the house around the corner…’

      He shook his head, thinking about the five-bedroom house with its indoor-outdoor living, swimming pool and a spectacular view of the tidal canal and its constant boat traffic.

      He and Anna had bought the colonnaded home when he’d been appointed to Gold Coast City. It was the place they’d taken Amber home to from the hospital and settled her into her nursery with the crooked wallpaper frieze of pastel balloons that he’d put on the wall. Anna had taken one look at his dodgy handiwork and had teased him not to give up his day job.

      ‘I couldn’t live in that house, no matter how close it was to you, and besides…’ he raked his hand through his hair ‘…it’s moot in this instance because you’re going to be gone for two months. I appreciate that you’ve been having Amber three days a week while I’ve been doing some private practice stuff, but I don’t want you putting your life on hold for me. Marty’s been talking about driving up the centre from Adelaide to Darwin for as long as I’ve known him, and it isn’t fair to you, him or the girls to put it off again.’

      ‘Luke, we’re family and we help each other out. It’s what families do. And the moment we get back I want to have Amber three days a week again.’ She leaned closer to him and smiled. ‘We love having her here, and the girls have stopped pestering me for a baby brother or sister so it’s win-win.’

      He tried to match her smile. ‘No more baby plans, then?’

      ‘No. Marty wanted two and I wanted four so we’ve compromised on three.’

      Luke detected a wistfulness in his sister’s voice, but before he could say anything Amber took a tumble on the grass and sent up a shriek of shocked surprise.

      ‘Up you get, honey,’ Luke called out as he rose to his feet and crossed the lawn. He swung his daughter into his arms and gave her knees and elbows a quick inspection for skin damage but could only see grass stains. He kissed her. ‘Bath time for you, young lady.’

      ‘Play ducky?’ Amber asked hopefully.

      ‘Play ducky in your bathtub,’ Luke replied, bracing himself for a howl of disappointment that Amber had to leave her beloved cousins and come with him.

      ‘Okay.’

      ‘Okay.’ He kissed her again, battling a surge of sadness for them both. ‘Let’s go…’ He couldn’t bring himself to say home because the cottage was just a house.

      Chloe checked little Made’s observations as the six-year-old slept. The white of the sheets and pillowcases made his black hair and deeply olive skin seem even darker, and in the big hospital bed he looked tiny and in need of protection. Her protection.

      She bit her lip against the rush of emotions—some caring, some painful, most tinged with loss. She’d lost her baby and along with it her chance to be a mother. Self-preservation meant she’d chosen not to nurse children, and in her off-duty life, while she didn’t technically avoid children, she didn’t actively seek them out either.

      She knew from bitter experience that letting her mind drift backwards was unwise and unhealthy so she drew on every ounce of her professionalism. He’s a patient, like all your other patients.

      She picked up the Bahasa-English dictionary she’d purchased and thumbed through the pages. Last night she’d recalled her basic Indonesian from primary school, and using the dictionary she’d looked up the words for pain and thirst, adding them to her small list of phrases. The little boy’s mother spoke less English than Chloe spoke Bahasa, which wasn’t saying much, so the dictionary was getting a good workout.

      Between them, they were muddling along and Made was pain-free, which right now was the most important thing for his recovery.

      Chloe stifled a yawn. It had been a long day