LATER THAT NIGHT Nya lay in bed staring at the ceiling, thinking back on the day just gone and trying to relax enough to go to sleep.
Theo had administered drugs both to promote the development of the baby’s lungs and slow Brittney Henderson’s contractions, then sent her by ambulance to St Isolde’s.
‘Hopefully they won’t have to do a caesarean section,’ he’d told the patient as he’d carefully explained what he was doing. ‘But do prepare yourself for the possibility.’
Nya had offered to call her husband, but after some consideration, Brittney had said she’d do it herself.
‘Better I tell him,’ she’d said, damp-eyed again. ‘If he hears it from anyone else, it’ll just make things worse.’
As it turned out, the Hendersons’ argument hadn’t been about anything important.
‘Jamie says I’ve been a bit crazed this time around, and he’s right,’ Brittney had admitted. ‘I don’t remember being this emotional with my first. Or as stroppy.’
‘Just like each baby is different, each pregnancy is too,’ Theo had reassured her, and Nya had agreed.
‘On top of the variance in hormones, there are all the external factors too. Changes in your home life, any financial difficulties that didn’t exist when you were expecting your first can make a big difference too.’
Thus reassured, Brittney had been put back into the ambulance, and sent on to Falmouth.
Theo had written up his notes, and they’d collected Hope from Hazel, bringing her home just in time for her early evening feed.
Theo had stayed, helping Nya get Hope ready for bed as he so often did. Being next to him at the sink, hearing his every breath, feeling his warmth against her arm, inhaling his scent, had made the sensation of disgruntlement she’d experienced earlier return.
Why, she wondered, did life insist on giving her a taste of paradise, and then yanking it away? Giving her this brief, wonderful time with a man and a child, neither of whom would ever be hers?
Yet more of her mother’s words of five years ago came back to her, reminding her she’d made a choice not to move on from Jim’s death.
‘You’ve closed yourself off from life. From the opportunity to build a life with someone, have children of your own. One day you’re going to look back and wonder what you were thinking, and why you let the chance of happiness pass you by.’
Nya had been angry and hurt. Didn’t Mum understand that losing Jim had meant giving all of that up, anyway? That for her own peace, she’d locked all of those urges away, and got on with her life as best she could?
Jim had been her soulmate. The one person who had made her feel truly alive in every sense.
His exuberance had been contagious. Growing up, she’d been solemn, studious, conscientious, because that was what she’d needed to be, especially after her father died.
Dad’s death had left her floundering, all too aware of how capricious life could be, and when she’d met Jim, and he’d tried to sweep her off her feet, she’d resisted as long as she could.
How could she get involved with a man with such a dangerous job?
But Jim had got under her skin, and into her heart, and she’d lulled herself into believing nothing would go wrong. He’d made it easy to believe too.
‘Safe as houses,’ he’d said. ‘If it wasn’t, there wouldn’t be so many old army veterans about, would there?’
Then he’d laughed that rich, booming laugh, and she’d just melted.
James Ademi could have made her believe anything, risk anything, give everything.
And she had—to her detriment.
When he’d died, he’d taken all her trust, her hopes with him, and left her nothing but fear, and the overriding knowledge that she didn’t dare risk loving again.
What she’d told Theo, about thinking she’d eventually leave Carey Cove and look for a more fulfilling life somewhere else had, she thought now, been a big fat fib.
She’d always been too afraid, even though she’d refused to admit it, even to herself.
Now, she had to face that fact, and acknowledge she was still too afraid to reach for what she now knew she wanted.
Theo, and Hope, for ever.
Oh, she knew Hope was just with her for a little while, and while that was heartbreaking in itself, she could bear it—just. All she wanted, in the final analysis, was for Hope to have the very best life possible, hopefully with her mother or father or, if that wasn’t possible, with a wonderful family who’d raise her as their own.
But Theo? Theo was still hurting from his divorce, still trying to figure out how to move on, and once again Mum had hit the nail on the head.
If Nya let him know that she was interested in him, physically and emotionally, and it turned out to just be a rebound situation on his part, she’d be devastated again.
She wasn’t the quickie affair type—that much she knew for sure.
And she couldn’t risk wanting more.
Flopping over in bed, hugging a pillow, she considered her options.
In a week, the midwife hired to cover Marnie’s maternity leave would be arriving, and, although it would stretch the team even further than they already were, Nya would take leave. Then she could tell Theo she would take over Hope’s care on her own, limiting the amount of time they spent together.
Then, with a sigh, she realised that plan wouldn’t work.
Theo was committed to Hope’s care, and he was a man who never walked away from responsibility. Even telling him she didn’t need his help wouldn’t stop him from helping anyway.
And the change being around Hope had wrought in Theo was too wonderful for Nya to risk interfering with it. He was smiling again. Seemed more alive—less solemn and sad. He needed Hope even more than the infant needed him.
No.
Nya would just have to deal with the emotional turmoil she’d brought on herself as best she could, until the situation resolved itself.
Until Hope was relocated.
Until Theo left Carey Cove and moved on with his life.
And she could go back to her safe, boring existence.
She’d left the Christmas lights on in the living room, and the colourful flashes of light illuminated the room enough to allow her to see Jim’s picture. His glorious smile. The strong arms that had made her feel safe and treasured.
In a way, she thought she’d let him down. He’d had a zest for life, and an indefatigable spirit that had made each day with him a delight. If she’d wanted to honour his memory properly, she should have taken up skydiving, or rock climbing. Moved to the South Seas and become a pearl diver.
Instead, she’d run away from life.
And, as she finally fell asleep, she was wondering whether she’d ever feel content with her life again.
There was no way to know how long she’d slept when she suddenly jerked awake and, without knowing why, immediately sat up.
A quick glance at her clock showed it was just gone midnight and, as she swung her legs out of bed, searching with her toes for her slippers, she was listening intently. Had someone been trying to break in?
Then, she heard it, and rushed to turn on the light.
Hope’s breathing sounded wrong.
Laboured.
The cot was right beside the bed, and Nya was there, looking down at Hope in an instant.
The baby’s chest was heaving and, as Nya watched, it stopped moving altogether.
Was that a blue tinge around her lips, too?
Quickly snatching her up with shaking hands, Nya ran for her phone.
Theo was still awake, poring over property listings, when his phone rang, making his heart skip a beat.
Calls after midnight were never a good thing.
And when he saw Nya’s name on the screen, his heart rate went into gallop mode.
‘Nya?’
‘Hope’s not breathing properly.’ Her voice was shaky, uneven, and Theo was on his feet, already heading for the door, as she continued. ‘I’ve already called an ambulance.’
‘I’m on my way,’ he said, snatching up his car keys and medical bag. ‘What are her symptoms?’
Nya outlined them quickly, her voice getting steadier, probably because now it was medical jargon, and her training was kicking in.
‘I just don’t understand. She’s been a little off colour the last couple of days, with that slightly stuffy nose and being a bit fussy, but I’ve not noticed any other symptoms. How could this come on so quickly?’
He was in his car and put the phone on speaker as he started it up. ‘I didn’t notice anything either, Nya.’ He was already kicking himself for that, but didn’t want her beating herself up. ‘We don’t know what’s happening, so don’t start blaming yourself.’
It took only minutes for him to get to Nya’s, and she was right there to open the door for him. Her drawn, grey-hued face made his heart clench, and his chest tightened when he saw Hope, limp in Nya’s arms, her chest heaving with each breath.
‘She’s getting worse,’ Nya said. ‘Where do you want to examine her?’
‘On the couch,’ he said, setting down his medical bag and taking out his stethoscope. ‘What’s the ETA on the ambulance?’
She glanced at her watch. ‘About five minutes, I think.’
He listened to Hope’s chest, worried not just by the obvious pulmonary obstruction, but by the infant’s lethargy.
‘Get a bag ready for her,’ he said, keeping his voice level with effort, wanting to give Nya something to concentrate on. ‘And put on your clothes. If you go with her in the ambulance, I’ll follow in my car.’
He heard her breath hitch, and then she rushed off towards her room, leaving him and Hope alone in the living room.
Hope’s face scrunched, as though she wanted to cry, but she didn’t seem to have the strength.
‘Come on,’ he muttered, as though the ambulance driver could hear him telepathically. ‘Come on.’
The swift onset of the infant’s symptoms worried him.
Asthma? Bacterial or viral infection? Allergy?
As a doctor, all these questions were instinctive, but Theo really was only focused on Hope’s breathing. He found himself inhaling, as if trying to give her more air by osmosis—the actions of a father, rather than a medical practitioner.
He was so glad Nya had called an ambulance. Right now, he was going on adrenaline, but he knew he wasn’t fit to drive safely if he had to take Hope to Falmouth, and there was no time to call out Roman and the helicopter.
‘Come on. Come on.’
Hope’s cyanosis was getting worse.
He heard the sirens in the distance, and the rush of relief almost brought him to his knees. Nya came dashing out of her room, Hope’s baby bag over her shoulder and a tote in her other hand, which she tossed down near the door.
She seemed to have got a better grip on her emotions, since her voice was steady when she said, ‘Bring that bag with you when you come, please. I’ll be staying with Hope for as long as necessary. I’ll call Kiara when we get to Falmouth, and the paediatrician has looked at our baby.’
Flashing lights heralded the arrival of the ambulance, and Nya pulled the door open before the attendants were even out of the vehicle.
How many times had he put a patient into an ambulance and, although concerned, hadn’t felt as though his entire world were shattered by it? Too many to count, really. But this time, as he stumbled over his words, telling the ambulance attendants what he’d observed, it took everything he had to let Hope go.
With brisk efficiency, Hope was taken to the ambulance and Nya paused only long enough to thrust her house keys into Theo’s hand before she followed.
Then, siren going, the vehicle pulled away, leaving Theo standing in the driveway, watching it, until it disappeared.
‘Theo!’ The urgency of the voice coming from behind him had him spinning around. ‘Theo, what happened? Is it Nya? Hope?’
Iona, in a dressing gown and winter boots, her head wrapped in a silk scarf, her eyes wide and her voice frantic, came running towards him.
‘It’s Hope. She’s developed a problem with her lungs.’
He tried to sound matter-of-fact, but the desperation he felt couldn’t be masked, and the next thing he knew Iona was hugging him, tightly.
‘She’ll be all right, Theo. Keep the faith.’
Then she held his shoulders, and stepped back, so she was looking up into his face.
‘Let me pack Nya a bag, and then you have to pull yourself together and go after them. They’ll need you.’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes.’ But he remained rooted where he was, until Iona gave his shoulders a hard shake.
‘Now, Theodore. Come on.’
That autocratic voice jerked him out of the shaking stupor he’d fallen into, and he snapped into action, following Iona into the house.
‘Nya packed that tote,’ he said.
‘Poor baby.’ Iona was giving it a go-through, and seemed to find the contents inadequate. ‘Give me a moment.’
In what seemed like an age, but couldn’t have been more than five minutes, he was in his car with Nya’s repacked tote, plus another bag Iona tossed onto the back seat.
‘Her knitting,’ she said as she leaned in to kiss Theo’s cheek. ‘She’ll need something to do with her hands. I’ll lock up. And make sure you keep your mind on the road, Theo. There’ll be time enough for worrying when you get there.’
But it was only as he was driving away, trying his best to keep within the speed limit, that Nya’s words came back to him, and struck him like a blow to the chest...
Our baby.
And he had to blink against the tears that threatened to fill his eyes.