The Nurse's Christmas Gift
Author
Tina Beckett
Reads
18.1K
Chapters
11
Chapter One
MAX AINSLEY WAS happy to be back on familiar soil.
Opening the door to his new cottage in a brand-new city, he hefted his duffel bag and tossed it over his shoulder, enjoying the warmth he found inside. Six months was too long; the days and nights spent helping displaced children in war-ravaged North Africa had eaten into his soul—one painful bite at a time. Trying to meet each desperate need had drained his emotional bank account until there was nothing left. He’d needed to come back to recharge and decide what he wanted to do next.
What better season than winter? The icy weather and the festive lights of the approaching holiday should help him push aside the thoughts of what he hadn’t been able to accomplish on this trip. At least he hoped so.
Three years of running from his past had changed nothing. Maybe it was time to start living in the present. To sign the papers he’d left behind and to finally let go of the past once and for all.
Shedding his parka and throwing his belongings onto a nearby leather sofa with a sigh, he surveyed the place. With its white-painted walls and comfortable furniture, it wasn’t huge or fancy, but it was big enough for a landing place, at least until he could figure out where he wanted to park his butt for the long haul. Sienna McDonald had sent pictures of several possibilities that were just a short distance from the hospital, and he’d settled on this one, the cottage’s quaint one-bedroom floor plan made more attractive by the small private garden off the back. This was the place.
He could finally sell his flat back in London.
And maybe it was time to call his solicitor and have him complete the process—to cut any remaining ties with a certain dark period in his life.
He spied a piece of paper on the table in the dining room and stiffened, before he realised it couldn’t be from her. She had no idea where he was right now. And she hadn’t tried to find him over the last couple of years. At least not that he knew of.
Wandering over to the note, he placed a finger on the pink stationery and cocked his head as he made out the cheerful words.
‘Welcome to Cheltenham and to Teddy’s! I’ve put some milk, cheese and cold meat in the fridge, and there is bread and sweets in the cupboard along with some other staples to help get you started. The boiler is lit, instructions are on the unit. I hope you’re ready to work, because I am more than ready for a rest!’
She’d signed her name with a flourish at the end.
Sweets, eh? That made him smile. But he was glad for the boiler, as snow was expected to hit any day and the temperatures had been steadily dropping. His body was still trying to adjust to the chill after all those months dealing with the hot temperatures of Sudan.
He was due at Teddy’s in the morning to start his contract, replacing Sienna McDonald when she went on maternity leave. She’d sent him a letter as he was packing for the flight telling him to get ready for a wild ride. There was a winter virus running through the halls of the hospital, affecting patients and staff alike. They were short-staffed and overworked.
He was ready. Anything to keep his mind off his previous life.
And the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Sienna would be there to show him the ropes, and Max would have time to adjust to being back in a modern hospital, where day-to-day life was not always a life and death struggle.
Well, that was not entirely true. In the world of paediatric cardiothoracic medicine, things were often about life and death, but they were caused by the battle raging within the person’s body, not the cruel deeds done by one human against another. And with Doctors Without Borders, he had seen his share of war and the horrific results of it.
His mind headed to a darker place, and Max forced it back to the mundane tasks he had to accomplish before his first shift tomorrow morning: shave the scruff of several weeks off his face, unpack, hunt down a vehicle to use.
With that in mind, he headed to the refrigerator to find something to eat. And then he would face the day, and hopefully get ready to face his future...and his first step towards banishing the past, once and for all.
* * *
Annabelle Brookes couldn’t believe how crowded the ward was. All the beds were full, and patients were seemingly crammed into every nook and cranny. The winter virus was not only sending people flooding into the hospital, but it was sending staff flooding out—multiple nurses and doctors had all become ill over the past several days. So far she had steered clear of its path, but who knew how long that would hold? She was frankly exhausted and, with six hours left to her shift, she was sure she would be dead on her feet by the time she headed home.
Despite it all, she was glad Ella O’Brien had pestered her until she’d agreed to come to Cheltenham a year ago. Maybe because her friend had recognised the signs of depression and the deadly spiral her life had taken after her husband had left for parts unknown. Whatever it had been, Annabelle felt she was finally getting her life back under control. She had Ella to thank for that. And for helping her land this plum position.
Head neonatal nurse was a dream come true for her. She might not be able to have children of her own, but she was happy to be able to rock, hold and treat other people’s babies all day long. Working at the same hospital as her midwife friend also meant there was plenty of time for girlie outings and things to take her mind off her own problems.
She let her fingers run across a draping of tinsel against a doorway as she went by, the cool slide of glittery metal helping relax her frazzled nerves.
Tucking a strand of hair back into the plait that ran halfway down her back, she dodged people and patients alike as she made her way towards the nursery and her next patient: Baby Doe, aka Baby Hope.
The baby had been abandoned by her mother—who was little more than a baby herself—and Annabelle felt a special affinity with this tiny creature. After all, hadn’t Annabelle been dumped by the person who should have loved her the most but left her languishing with a broken heart? No. Actually, Annabelle had done the dumping, but her heart had still splintered into pieces.
Baby Hope’s heart was literally broken, whereas Annabelle’s was merely...
She stiffened her jaw. No. Her heart was just fine, thank you very much.
Was that why that paperwork was still sitting on a shelf gathering dust? And it was too. Annabelle had cleaned around the beige envelope over the past couple of years, but hadn’t been able to bring herself to touch it, much less open it and read the contents. Because she already knew what they said. She had been the one to do the filing.
But Max had never responded. Or sent his signed copy back to her solicitor.
And if he had? What then?
She had no idea.
As she rounded the nurses’ station to check the schedule and see what other cases she’d been assigned for the day, the phone rang. A nurse sitting behind the desk picked up the phone, waving at her as she answered the call.
‘Baby Doe? Oh, yes, Annabelle just arrived. I’ll send her in.’ She set the phone down.
Maybe the first order of business after her divorce should be to officially get rid of her married name. It still hurt to have it attached to her, even though she no longer went by Annabelle Ainsley.
‘Miss McDonald and her replacement are doing rounds and are ready to examine the baby. Do you mind filling them in on what’s happened over the last few hours?’
‘On my way.’ Annabelle had already been headed towards the glass window that made up the viewing area of the special care baby unit, so it was perfect timing. Arriving on the floor, she spotted a heavily pregnant Sienna McDonald ducking into the room. The neonatal cardiothoracic surgeon had been overseeing Baby Doe’s care as they waited for an available heart for the sick infant. Another man, wearing a lab coat and sporting dark washed jeans, went in behind Sienna. She could only catch a glimpse of a strong back and thick black hair, but something inside her took a funny little turn at the familiar way the man moved.
Shaking her head to clear it, she reached the door a few seconds later and slid inside.
She headed towards the baby’s cot, finding Sienna and the other doctor—their backs to her—hovering over it.
About to step around to the other side, the stranger raised the top of the unit. ‘Her colour doesn’t look good.’
Annabelle stifled a gasp, stopping in her tracks for several horrified seconds. She lifted her eyes and stared at the man’s back.
That voice.
Those gruff masculine tones were definitely not the feminine Scottish lilt belonging to Sienna, that was for sure. This had to be Sienna’s replacement. Had she actually seen the name of the new doctor written somewhere? She didn’t think so, but she was beginning to think she should have paid more attention.
She swallowed down the ball of bile before the pressure built to dangerous levels.
The new doctor spoke again. ‘What’s her diagnosis?’
The ball in Annabelle’s throat popped back into place with a vengeance.
It couldn’t be.
Sienna glanced over at him. ‘Hypoplastic left heart syndrome. She’s waiting on a donor heart.’
The other doctor’s dark head bent as he examined the baby. ‘How far down is she on the list?’
‘Far enough that we’re all worried. Especially Annabelle Brookes—you’ll meet her soon. She’s the nurse who’s been with our little patient from the time she was born.’
Annabelle, who had begun sliding back towards the door, stopped when the new doctor slowly lifted his head, turning it in her direction. Familiar brown eyes she would recognise anywhere met hers and narrowed, staring for what seemed like an eternity but had to have been less than a second. There wasn’t the slightest flinch in his expression. She could have been a complete stranger.
But she wasn’t.
He knew very well who she was. And she knew him.
No. It couldn’t be.
For a soul-searing moment she wondered if she’d been mistaken, that he wasn’t Sienna’s replacement at all, but was here to say he’d finally signed the papers. Maybe he’d heard about Baby Hope’s case and had just popped in to take a look while they hunted for Annabelle.
Or...maybe he’d met someone else.
Her whole system threatened to shut down as she stood there staring.
‘Annabelle? Are you all right?’ Sienna’s voice startled her enough to force her to blink.
‘Oh, yes, I...um...’ What was she supposed to say?
Max evidently didn’t have that problem. He came away from Hope’s incubator, extending his hand. ‘I didn’t realise you’d moved from London.’
‘Yes. I did.’ She ignored his hand, tipping her chin just a fraction, instead. So he hadn’t come here to find her.
Sienna glanced from one to the other. ‘You two already know each other?’
One side of Max’s mouth turned up in a semblance of a smile as he allowed his hand to drop back by his side. ‘Quite well, actually.’
Yes, they knew each other. But ‘quite well’? She’d thought so at one time. But in the end... Well, he hadn’t stuck around.
Of course, she’d been the one to tell him to go. And he had. Without a single attempt to change her mind—or to fight for what they’d once had.
Sienna’s brows went up, obviously waiting for some kind of explanation. But what could she say, really?
She opened her mouth to try to save the situation, but a shrill noise suddenly filled the room.
An alarm! And this one wasn’t in her head.
All eyes swivelled back to Baby Hope, who lay still in her incubator.
It was the pulse oximeter. Hope wasn’t breathing!
‘Let’s get some help in here!’ Max was suddenly belting out orders in a tone that demanded immediate response.
Glancing again at the baby’s form, she noted that the tiny girl’s colour had gone from bad to worse, a dangerous mottling spreading over her nappy-clad form. Annabelle’s heart plummeted, her fingers beginning a familiar tingle that happened every time she went into crisis mode.
Come on, little love. Don’t do this. Not when we’re just getting to know each other.
Social services had asked Annabelle to keep a special eye on the infant, since she had no next of kin who were willing to take on her care. Poor little thing.
Annabelle knew what it was like to feel alone.
In Max’s defence, it had been her choice. But he had issued an ultimatum. One she hadn’t been prepared to accept.
Right now, though, all she needed to think about was this little one’s battle for life. Max shot Sienna a look. The other doctor nodded at him. Whatever the exchange was, Max took the lead.
‘We need to tube her.’
Annabelle went to the wall and grabbed a pair of gloves from the dispenser, shoving her hands into them and forcing herself to take things one step at a time. To get ahead of yourself was to make a mistake.
She hurried to get the trach tube items, tearing into sterile packages with a vengeance. Two more nurses rushed into the room, hearing the cries for help. Each went to work, knowing instinctively what needed to be done. They’d all been through this scenario many times before.
But not with Baby Hope.
Annabelle moved in next to Max and handed him each item as he asked for it, her mind fixed on helping the tiny infant come back from the precipice.
Trying not to count the seconds, she watched Max in motion, marvelling at the steadiness of his large hands as he intubated the baby, his face a mask of concentration. A look that was achingly familiar. She swallowed hard. She needed to think of him as a doctor. Not as someone she’d once loved.
And lost.
He connected the tubing to the ventilator as one of the other nurses set the machine up and switched it on.
Almost immediately, Baby Hope’s chest rose and fell in rhythmic strokes as the ventilator did the breathing for her. As if by magic, the pulse ox alarm switched off and the heart-rate monitor above the incubator began sounding a steadier blip-blip-blip as the heart reacted to the life-giving oxygen.
The organ was weak, but at least it was beating.
But for how much longer?
Thank God they hadn’t needed to use the paddles to shock it back into rhythm. Baby Hope was already receiving prostaglandin to prevent the ductus in her heart from closing and cutting off blood flow. And they had her on a nitrogen/oxygen mix in an attempt to help the oxygen move to the far reaches of her body. But even so, her hands and extremities were tinged blue, a sure sign of cyanosis. It would only get worse the longer she went without a transplant.
‘She’s back in rhythm.’
At least a semblance of rhythm, and she wasn’t out of the woods, not by a long shot. Her damaged heart—caused by her mum’s drug addiction—was failing quickly. Without a transplant, she would die. Whether that last crisis arrived in a week or two or three, the outcome would be the same.
Annabelle sent up a silent prayer that a donor heart would become available.
Even as she prayed it, though, she hated the fact that another family would have to lose their child so that Baby Hope might live.
They watched a few more minutes as things settled down. ‘We’ll leave her on the ventilator until we figure out exactly what happened. We can try adjusting the nitrogen rate or play with some of her other meds to see if we can buy her a little more time.’
Sienna nodded. ‘I was thinking the exact thing.’ She glanced at Annabelle. ‘Are you okay?’
It was the second time she’d asked her that question. And the second time she had trouble coming up with a response.
‘I will be.’
‘I know this one’s special to you.’
Of course. Sienna was talking about the baby. Not about Max and his sudden appearance back in her life.
‘I just want her to have a chance.’
‘As stubborn as you are, she has it.’ Sienna gave her a smile.
‘Annabelle is nothing, if not tenacious.’ Max’s voice came through, only there wasn’t a hint of amusement in the words. And she knew why. Because he wasn’t referring to Hope. He was referring to how she’d clung to what she’d thought was their dream only to find out it wasn’t.
‘You said you know each other?’
When Annabelle came to work this morning, never in her wildest imaginings had she pictured this scene. Because she already knew how it was going to play out. She braced herself for impact.
‘We do.’
There was a pause as the other doctor waited to be enlightened.
Annabelle tried to head it off, even though she knew it was hopeless. ‘We’ve known each other for years.’
‘Yes,’ Max murmured. ‘You could say that. Your Annabelle Brookes is actually Annabelle Ainsley. My wife.’
* * *
‘Your...’ Sienna suddenly looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else but here. ‘It didn’t even dawn on me. Your names...’
‘Are not the same. I know.’ Max’s mouth turned down at the corners, a hard line that she recognised forming along the sides of his jaw. ‘I see you’ve gone back to your maiden name.’ He pinned her with a glance.
‘We’re separated. Getting a divorce.’ She explained as quickly as she could without adding that going back to her maiden name had been a way to survive the devastation that his leaving had caused.
Even though you’re the one who asked him to go.
They hadn’t spoken since the day he’d found her temperature journal and realised that, although she’d stopped doing the in-vitro procedures as he’d demanded, she hadn’t completely given up hope. Until that very minute.
When she’d seen the look on his face as he’d thumbed through the pages, she’d known it was over. She’d grabbed the book from his hands and told him to leave.
And just like that, he’d walked out of their front door and out of her life.
Just like Baby Hope’s mother.
And like that lost soul, Max had never come back.
Until now.
She frowned. ‘Did you know I was at Teddy’s when you accepted that contract to take Sienna’s position?’
Even as she asked it, she knew it made no sense for him to have come here. Not without a good reason.
Like those papers on her shelf?
‘No.’
That one curt word told her everything she needed to know. If he’d known she was working at the Royal Cheltenham, this was the last place he’d have chosen to come.
Sienna touched a gloved hand to the baby’s head. ‘If you two can finish getting her stabilised, I need to get off my feet for a few minutes.’ She eyed Max. ‘Why don’t you give me a call when you’re done here and I’ll finish showing you around the hospital?’
‘Sounds good. Thanks.’
Annabelle was halfway surprised that he hadn’t just said he was ready now. He had to be as eager to get away from her as she was to get away from him. But they had their patient to consider.
Their?
Oh, God. If he was Sienna’s replacement, that meant they would share this particular case. And others like it.
As soon as Sienna had left the room along with the other nurses, Max took a few moments to finish going over the baby’s chart, making notes in it while Annabelle squirmed. She couldn’t believe he was here. After all this time.
And for the tiniest second, when those intelligent eyes of his had swept over her, she’d entertained the thought that maybe he really had come here looking for her. But it was obvious from his behaviour that he hadn’t.
He hadn’t seemed all that pleased that she’d dumped his name. How could he expect otherwise, though? She’d wanted no reminders of their time together, not that a simple name change could ever erase all the pain and sadness over the way their marriage had ended.
‘Why don’t you fill me in on the details of her care? Miss McDonald seemed to indicate you know the baby better than anyone else on staff.’ The cool way he asked the question made heat rush to her face.
Here she was agonising over the past, while he was able, as always, to wall off his feelings and emotions. It had driven her crazy when they were together that he could behave as if their world weren’t imploding as she’d had miscarriage after miscarriage.
‘Social services needed someone who could report back to them on what was happening with her care. And since I’m head nurse, it kind of fell to me to do it.’
‘Somehow I didn’t think you would remain a neonatal nurse. Not after everything that happened.’
She shrugged. ‘I love my job. Just because I can’t...have children doesn’t mean I want to go into another line of nursing. I’m not one to throw in the towel.’
‘I think that depended on the situation.’ His words had a hard edge to them.
She decided to take a page from his book and at least try to feign indifference. ‘What do you want me to tell you about her?’
‘Do you know anything about her history? Her mother?’
Annabelle filled him in on everything she could, from the fact that Baby Hope’s mother had been hooked on heroin to the fact that she’d fled the hospital soon after giving birth, staff only discovering her absence when they went in to take her vitals. They’d found her bed empty, her hospital gown wadded up under the covers. They’d called the authorities, but in the two weeks since the baby’s birth no one had come forward with any information.
The drug use had caused the baby to go through withdrawals in addition to the in-utero damage her heart had sustained. It was getting weaker by the day. In fact, every ounce she gained put more strain on it. Normally in these children, Annabelle considered weight gain something to be celebrated. Not in Hope’s case. It just meant she had that much less time to live.
‘Does any of that help?’ she asked.
‘It does. I’m going to up her dose of furosemide and see if we can get a little of that fluid off her belly. I think that’s why she stopped breathing. If it’s not any better in an hour or two, I’m going to try to draw some of it off manually.’
‘We did that a few days ago. It seemed to help.’
‘Good.’
They looked at each other for a long moment, then Max said, ‘You’ve let your hair grow.’
The unexpectedness of the observation made her blink. ‘It makes it easier to get out of the way.’
Annabelle used to tame her waves rather than pulling them back. Between blowing them out and using a straightening iron, she’d spent a lot of time on her appearance. Once Max had left, though, there’d seemed little reason to go through those contortions any more. It was only when she stopped that she realised she’d been simply going through the motions for the last half of their marriage. Having a baby had become such a priority that her every waking moment had been consumed with it. It was no wonder he’d jumped at the chance to get out. She hadn’t liked who she’d become either.
She opened her mouth to say something more, before deciding the less personal they made their interactions, the better for both of them. They’d travelled down that road once before and it hadn’t ended well. And she definitely didn’t want to give him the impression that she’d been pining for him over the past three years. She hadn’t been. She’d got well and truly over him.
‘Since you’re working here now, maybe we should set down some ground rules to avoid any sticky situations.’ She paused. ‘Unless you’d like to change your mind about staying.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I signed a contract. I intend to abide by the terms of it.’
Was that why he hadn’t moved to complete the process of terminating their union? Because he viewed their marriage as a contract rather than an emotional commitment? She’d been the one to actually file, not him.
Her throat clogged at the thought, but she pushed ahead, needing to finish their conversation so she could leave. Before the crazy avalanche of emotions buried her any deeper.
‘Most people at Teddy’s don’t know that I was married. They just assume I’m single. All except for Ella.’
Since she no longer wore her ring, it made it that much easier to assume she had no one in her life.
His brows went up. ‘Ella O’Brien?’
‘Yes.’ He would know who Ella was. They’d been best friends for years. She was very surprised her friend hadn’t got wind of Max’s arrival. Then again, maybe Annabelle would have known had she paid more attention during staff meetings. She’d known Sienna was going on maternity leave soon but had had no idea that Max was the one who’d be taking her place. Maybe because Baby Hope had taken up most of her thoughts in the last couple of weeks.
‘How is she?’
‘Ella? She’s fine.’ She looked away from him, reaching down to touch Hope’s tiny hand over the side of the still-open incubator. ‘Anyway, Ella knows about us, but, as you could see from Sienna’s reaction, that information hasn’t made its way around the hospital. I would appreciate if you didn’t go around blurting out that you’re my husband. Because you’re not. You haven’t been for the last three years.’
One side of his mouth went up in that mouth-watering way that used to make her tremble. But right now, she was desperate to put this runaway train back on its tracks.
‘I have a paper that says otherwise.’
‘And I have one that says I’m ready to be done with that part of my life.’
‘The divorce papers. I’m surprised you haven’t followed up on them with your solicitor.’
She should have had that solicitor hound Max until he signed, but she hadn’t, and she wasn’t quite sure why. ‘I’ve been busy.’
His eyes went to Hope. ‘I can see that.’
‘So you’ll keep our little...situation between us?’
‘How do you know Miss McDonald isn’t going to say something to someone?’
‘She won’t.’ Sienna was secretive enough about her own past that Annabelle was pretty sure privacy was a big deal to the other doctor.
‘And Ella? You don’t think she’ll say anything?’
‘Not if she knows what’s good for her.’ She said it with a wryness in her voice, because her friend was obstinate to the point of stubbornness about some things. But she was a good and faithful friend. She’d mothered Annabelle when she’d come to her crying her eyes out when Max had walked out of the door. No, Ella wouldn’t tell anyone.
Annabelle pulled her hand from the incubator and took a deep breath. Then she turned back to face Max again.
‘Please. Can’t we try to just work together like the professionals we are? At least for the time you’re here.’ She wanted to ask exactly how long that would be, but for now she had to assume it was until Sienna was finished with her maternity leave. If she thought of it as a finite period of time she could survive his presence. At least she hoped she could.
But she already knew she’d be seeing a lot more of him. Especially if he was going to be the doctor who either opened Hope’s chest and placed a donor heart in it or who signed her death certificate.
She closed her eyes for a second as the remembered sound of that alarm sliced through her being. How long before that sound signalled the end of a life that had barely begun?
‘I don’t know, Anna.’ His low voice caused her lids to wrench apart. ‘Can we?’
Her name on his lips sent a shiver through her, as did his words. It was the first time she’d heard the shortened version of Annabelle in three years. In fact, during their very last confrontation he’d reverted to her full name. And then he was gone.
So it made her senses go wonky to hear the drawled endearment murmured in something other than anger.
She’d wanted a simple answer...a promise that Max would do his best to keep their time together peaceful. He hadn’t given her that. Or maybe he was simply acknowledging something that she was afraid to admit: that it was impossible for them to work together as if they’d never crossed paths before. Because they had.
And if those old hurts and resentments somehow came out with swords drawn?
Then, as much as she wanted to keep their past relationship in the past, it would probably spill over into the present in a very real way.
