IT WAS STILL too early for Hazel to be in to take up her post at Reception, so when Nya heard the front door of the hospital rattle, she got up to see who it was. While it wasn’t unusual for them to have an expectant mother come in at all hours in labour, the midwife on call for that night would usually already have been alerted to attend. As far as she knew, that hadn’t happened.
And was that the cry of a baby echoing down the corridor?
Not knowing what to think, Nya increased her pace, turning the corner into the reception area and stopping short at the sight of Theo Turner seemingly struggling to close the door behind himself.
Not surprising, since he had a basket, his briefcase and keys in hand—and a swaddled, crying baby in the crook of one arm.
The incongruity of it kept her frozen in place for a moment. Long enough for the obstetrician to turn to face her, and when their eyes met her heart did a funny little stutter, causing a rush of heat to her face.
She’d always thought Theo was handsome. He had the type of understated good looks that caused most women to give him at least a second look, and a quiet charm that nonetheless lit up whatever room he was in.
But since they’d met, on her return to Carey Cove, he’d always been Theo, Femi’s husband, an intrinsic part of a couple she knew well, so completely out of bounds in every way. To suddenly find herself aware—as if for the first time—of his good looks, and self-conscious in his presence, was shocking.
Then there was no time to wonder about her strange reaction to her old friend, as she rushed forward to relieve him of the basket and briefcase.
‘Theo, what on earth...?’ she asked, as she put the items down on Hazel’s desk, and then instinctively reached for the baby, holding and shushing while Theo took off his coat. The slight weight in her arms, the scrunched little face, fat tears running down pinkened cheeks, all tugged at her heart.
‘The baby was on the doorstep,’ he replied. Before Nya knew what he intended, he’d plucked the infant from her arms and was heading towards one of the examination rooms, leaving Nya to trot to be able to keep up with his long strides. ‘I don’t know how long he or she’s been out there.’
‘Couldn’t be more than ten minutes or so,’ she told him, turning on the light over the examination table where he’d laid the baby, who was now wailing lustily. ‘My mum left about fifteen minutes ago, and I let her out the front. Believe me, neither of us would have ignored a basket on the doorstep.’
The quick smile Theo sent her lit up his oft solemn face and caused a little fan of laugh lines to appear at the corner of each eye. Fighting another wave of heat rushing to her face, Nya looked down at the baby so as not to stare at his lips. But then she found herself watching his hands as he un-swaddled the squirming infant, and this time her own hands tingled, and the warmth spread through her belly.
‘I glimpsed Iona when I was driving here, and I have no doubt what you say is true,’ he replied, amusement still lingering in his voice even as it dropped to a low croon. ‘There’s no way super-midwife Nya wouldn’t have seen you, is there, sweetheart?’
Obviously he was talking to the baby, but Nya couldn’t help the little hitch of her breath.
What on earth was happening to her?
Taking herself in hand, Nya turned her thoughts to the practicality of the situation, just as Theo got the blanket undone, revealing the warm pink pyjamas beneath.
‘Unless your mama is one of those people who don’t go by tradition, I’m guessing you’re a little girl,’ he continued, in that same low, sing-song voice she’d heard him use with babies before. ‘And you’re in need of a clean nappy.’
Thankful for something to do, Nya rushed to the supply cupboard and retrieved a clean nappy, along with a blanket and baby wipes.
‘How is her babygrow?’ she asked, poised to dash off to find one to fit.
‘Still dry,’ Theo replied, as he took the wipe she offered him and efficiently cleaned up the little girl’s bum. ‘She looks to be about a week old—don’t you, sweetheart? Do you recognise her?’
‘No.’ Nya shook her head, running a finger over the little clenched fist closest to her, and then over the wisps of light brown hair on the baby’s pate. ‘I’m sure she wasn’t born here. I’ll start a file on her, if you’ll take weight and measurements, and then call Social Services.’
‘She seems to be in good health,’ Theo sing-songed as he replaced the pyjamas, adroitly managing to do it with a minimum of fuss. ‘And Mama wrapped you up nice and warmly, so there’s no hint of hypothermia.’
‘I wonder what her poor mum is going through,’ Nya murmured. ‘She must have thought this her only option.’
‘Yes,’ Theo said as he gently lifted the now gurgling baby onto his shoulder. ‘And brought her to a place where she knew her little one would be safe and well taken care of.’
How like him not to judge the baby’s mother, Nya thought as she assembled the appropriate forms and went over to the weighing station, where Theo waited. He probably felt the way she did, that everyone deserved the benefit of the doubt. With some of the horror stories they’d heard and seen, the mother probably had done the very best she could by bringing the baby to their doorstep.
‘Oh,’ she said, staring down at the clipboard in her hand. ‘What should we call her? I refuse to put “Baby Jane Smith” on this form.’
‘Well, I should hope not,’ Theo replied, amusement once more vibrating in his voice. ‘She’s too beautiful for a name like that.’
‘That’s it,’ Nya said, unable to stop a little giggle of glee from breaking through. ‘How about Hope? As her name, I mean?’
‘Perfect,’ he replied. ‘Especially at this time of year.’
And Nya couldn’t help her little thrill of satisfaction at his agreement.
As they worked together examining Hope, Theo relayed the information he gathered to Nya in the same sweet croon as before, and Nya had to force herself to concentrate. Although they’d worked together in the past, and she’d heard him speak to babies this way before, for some reason today she found it unreasonably adorable.
There was something about a man with hands as large as Theo’s so tenderly handling a week-or-so-old baby that just made Nya’s heart melt too.
She shook her head, bringing herself up short. Maybe this was an after-effect of her mother’s visit, or just her own thoughts earlier, but this was no time to let her mind wander this way.
‘If you can manage by yourself for a while, I’ll run down to my office and call Caroline at Social Services. We need to get Hope a safe place to stay until they can find her mum.’
Theo sent her a glance that had her heart racing and stumbling over itself. Then he turned that dark, twinkling gaze back to the baby, who was once more safely ensconced in his arms.
‘Of course we can manage. I think I’m quite qualified to take care of Hope for however long it takes.’
‘Brilliant,’ Nya said, tearing herself away from his and Hope’s side with more difficulty than she liked, and heading out of the door. Then a thought struck her, and she turned back to ask, ‘What are you doing here, anyway? I heard you were on holiday.’
The slight smile on his face faded, and his eyes grew guarded as he looked back up at her to give a negligible shrug of one shoulder. ‘I thought I was coming in to do some paperwork, but it turns out I was really here to rescue this little darling—wasn’t I, Hope?’
And since his somewhat dismissive tone came through clearly despite that special baby voice, Nya turned away without another word.
But it stung, all the same. They’d been friends for years, but she knew Theo had been avoiding her since his divorce and she couldn’t help wondering why he’d turned so cool. Surely he didn’t think she’d hit on him, as she’d heard some of the other women in the village had? Or perhaps it was the fact that she and Femi, while not good friends, had been more than acquaintances—going to lunch on occasion, or out to the pub of an evening.
She’d thought it best to give Theo space, hoping that in time he’d realise she was, if not on his side, particularly, then still a friend, but it seemed he wanted nothing to do with her, at all.
And if that was what Theo wanted, then that was what he’d get. As soon as they got Hope appropriately situated, Nya would make sure to keep her distance.
Probably for the best, with these strange emotions he’d stirred in her today!
Theo watched Nya walk away and found himself watching the sway of her hips with far more interest than he should. Somehow, this morning, he’d been aware of her in a new, disquieting way.
The gleam in her warm brown eyes.
Her gentleness as she touched baby Hope, and swept her narrow, lovely fingers over the baby’s hair.
The fresh scent rising from her hair as she leant close to him, and the smooth, dark curve of her cheek, seen in three-quarter profile as she smiled.
All of those, plus that infectious giggle she always seemed to try to suppress, had filled him with the kind of joy he’d begun to think he might never feel again.
Then he’d thrown back up all the barriers she’d so easily slipped behind.
At some point he’d have to apologise. It had become instinctive, this need to keep a new distance between himself and other people. Much easier than trying to gauge who was still a friend, and who was looking askance. Realising the village grapevine had been hard at work, and people were probably talking about how he’d been forcibly sent on holiday, had caused him to treat her coolly.
Yet, he knew he was being unfair to Nya, who was the nicest, most caring person he knew. He’d often wondered how it was some lucky man hadn’t snatched her up long ago, even knowing perhaps it would be impossible for any man to have a chance to do so. Everyone knew she was still in love with her husband, although it must be close to twenty years since he’d died.
Theo believed in everlasting love, so thought he understood her hesitance.
It was a shame though. Nya had so much to give and would have been a phenomenal mother.
And, he realised, he was thinking about all this so as to be able to ignore the fact that he’d hurt her feelings.
‘I was a heel, wasn’t I, Hope?’ he asked the little girl, who was staring up at him and sucking on one hand. ‘We should go find Auntie Nya, and apologise, shouldn’t we? Or I should, at any rate.’
But he found himself reluctant to go after Nya. She’d so easily stirred something deep within. The kind of longing he had no business feeling.
He’d always considered her a friend, and to even for a moment wonder what it would be like to touch her, maybe even kiss her, threw him into confusion.
However, they had to work together just now, to make sure Hope got the care she needed, and, after a deep breath and a quick kiss on Hope’s forearm, he made his way to Nya’s office.
She was still on the phone, glancing up quickly at him as he came in her door and gesturing to the chair on the other side of her desk with her chin.
‘Certainly,’ she said into the receiver. ‘Of course we can. Keep me informed. Thank you.’
Putting down the receiver with her habitual brisk movements, she took off her square, black-framed glasses and rubbed the side of her index finger across one eye.
‘Caroline says they’re run off their feet at the moment, but she’ll start trying to find Hope a foster family. She’ll also advise the police about you finding her, and they’ll probably be by later to take our statements. In the meantime, she’s asked if we can take care of Hope here.’
Hope made a little sound, and Theo looked down. The infant had fallen asleep, her fist still in her mouth, and the sweet innocence of her tugged hard at Theo’s heart.
‘Well,’ he said, without thinking it through. ‘Since I don’t have anything planned for the day, why don’t I take care of her until Caroline finds a suitable placement?’
Nya’s face lit up, and her lush lips curled into one of her warm smiles.
‘That would be brilliant,’ she said, leaning back in her chair and swinging it from side to side slightly. ‘I know the midwives coming on duty shortly would be willing to keep an eye on her, but unfortunately we’re a bit short-staffed, and there are no patients in the maternity ward right now. If you’re willing to keep an eye on her, when she’s awake you can give her the physical contact she needs.’
Hope stirred against his chest, and Theo glanced down at her again, shifting her to a more comfortable position. The infant sighed, and snuggled in closer, and he couldn’t help smiling down at her.
When he raised his gaze to Nya, there was a look in her eyes that froze him in place, and had his heart pounding.
Then she turned away, as though looking out of the door, and said, ‘That’ll be Hazel coming in. Let’s go tell her what’s going on, so she doesn’t have a conniption when the bobbies turn up at the door.’
Before he could even move, she was out of her seat—heading for the corridor—and it took him a moment to regain his equilibrium and follow her to Reception.