The Midwife's Marriage Proposal
Yazar
Sarah Morgan
Okur
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9
CHAPTER ONE
‘SALLY JENNER! I am so pleased to finally meet you.’ Emma’s smile was warm with welcome. ‘I’ve heard such good things about you and we badly need an extra midwife. You are going to be everyone’s most popular person.’
‘Thanks. It’s good to be here.’ Sally smiled at the labour ward sister, but nothing could subdue the nervous fluttering in her stomach. The nerves had been there from the moment she’d made the decision to leave Australia and return home.
From the moment she’d known she would be seeing Tom Hunter again.
She’d prepared herself for this moment for seven years.
But now it was here she was suddenly terrified that she’d let herself down. Reveal something that she didn’t want to reveal.
Feel something that she didn’t want to feel.
What would he look like now? Had her memory exaggerated his masculine appeal? Could any man truly be the god she’d believed him to be?
‘Anything you want to know, just ask me,’ Emma said cheerfully, oblivious to Sally’s anxiety. ‘I know you trained in this hospital, but you’ve been away a while and some things might have changed so I’ll give you a quick tour. We have two operating theatres, six traditional delivery rooms and four “home” rooms, as we call them. In other words, they’re supposed to make people feel that they’re actually in their own bedrooms.’
Sally laughed. ‘You don’t sound very convinced.’
‘Well, my bedroom is buried under a ton of unwashed laundry and books that I intend to read at some point and haven’t got round to yet,’ Emma confessed cheerfully, ‘so the rooms certainly don’t look like my home. But I can dream.’
She pushed open a door and Sally followed her inside.
The room had a large double bed and a sofa covered in pretty scatter cushions. There were also magazines and a music system.
Sally gave a nod. ‘Nice. Cosy.’
Emma shrugged. ‘Well, it’s a compromise between giving birth at home and in hospital. Now, come and see the birthing pool.’
They left the room and Emma opened another door and flicked on some lights. ‘We have two, but the other one is in use at the moment.’
Sally walked into the room and looked at the pool. ‘You do a lot of water births?’ She knew that some of her medical colleagues had questioned the safety of water births. ‘The consultants are comfortable with that?’
Emma gave a wry smile. ‘Not all of them. The three older ones much prefer to just whip a woman into Theatre or yank the baby out with forceps the moment her labour starts to take longer than the books say it should. But attitudes are changing as younger consultants join the team.’ She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. ‘I ought to warn you that if you’re ever planning on having a baby here, Tom Hunter is your man. He’s young but he’s brilliant. He has amazingly good instincts and nerves of steel. Unlike some I could mention, he isn’t frightened into C-sectioning everyone.’ Her tone was warm. ‘He thinks that a woman should be allowed to deliver by herself whenever possible and he does his best to let that happen.’
Sally slid a hand over the edge of the birthing pool, careful to hide her expression.
The knowledge that Tom was regarded as some sort of hero in the delivery suite clashed violently with her own negative attitude to the man.
She didn’t want to admire him. It would make it even harder to manage her emotions.
‘So he approves of the pool?’
‘For labour, but not delivery,’ Emma told her, leading the way out of the room and back down the corridor. ‘He also approves of aromatherapy, relaxation techniques and breathing.’
Realizing that some sort of response was expected, Sally managed a smile. ‘He sounds amazing.’
‘He’s very good with the women. Very skilled.’
Sally felt her insides twist viciously but kept her expression neutral. She knew exactly how skilled Tom Hunter was with women.
Swiftly she changed the subject. ‘So I’ll be working on the labour ward?’
‘That’s where we need you for now. We all move around the unit at times, and we try to give a woman a midwife that she knows, but you have a lot of labour ward experience and that’s the most important thing.’ Emma pushed open the door to the staffroom. ‘And this is the most important room on the labour ward. Better take a good look. You won’t get to see much of it.’
Sally walked over to the window and stared at the mountains, lost in their beauty, longing to be out there, walking or climbing. For her, life was a constant battle between her love of the outdoors and her love of midwifery.
She heard a heavy, male tread behind her and froze.
Even without looking she knew it was him.
She felt him.
They shared a connection that was beyond the physical. It had always been that way with them.
He’d truly been her other half. Until he’d torn them apart.
‘Hi, Tom. You’re just in time for a coffee and an introduction to our new midwife.’ Emma’s voice was bright and cheerful, like sunshine playing innocently in front of an approaching storm.
Reminding herself that she’d been rehearsing this exact moment for years, Sally turned, the expression in her green eyes cool and totally devoid of emotion as she brought into play all the skills she’d carefully developed.
He stood in the doorway, powerful legs spread apart in an arrogant pose, his blue eyes fixed on her with shimmering incredulity.
Sally felt the past slide over her like a suffocating cloak and with a determined effort she thrust it aside, reminding herself that the past was all about yesterdays and that she was only interested in today and tomorrow.
And neither was going to feature this man, even if he was straight out of a female fantasy.
And he was.
He’d always been indecently good-looking, she thought numbly, but age and maturity had added a hard edge to his masculinity that would make even the most cynical, man-wary female catch her breath.
And the combination of jet-black hair and blue eyes was a killer.
Resolutely she reined in her feelings, holding them close, reminding herself of the price of loving this man.
It was high. Too high.
She’d paid it once with interest and she wasn’t prepared to pay it again.
So she held that dark gaze steadily and noted the shock that he couldn’t quite conceal with a flicker of feminine satisfaction.
He hadn’t expected her to come home.
But she had. And he was going to have to live with that.
Like it or not, she was back.
And she was staying.
‘Hello, Tom.’ Her voice was cool and formal. Not a tremor, not a shake, not a flicker of emotion. She was proud of herself. ‘It’s been a long time.’
* * *
Tom braced his shoulders and tried to counter the shock wave that pulsed through his body.
He’d always known that one day Sally Jenner would walk into his life again. That he’d be forced to stare his past in the face.
Acknowledge the guilt.
It had been seven years and yet he still wasn’t able to remember their final encounter without breaking into a sweat.
He gritted his teeth, telling himself that he’d made the right decision for both of them, even though she hadn’t been able to see it at the time.
At first glance she seemed hardly to have changed. Still the same intriguing green eyes that flashed a hint of rebellion and challenge, still the slim legs, the narrow waist and the delicate curves. She looked as though a strong gust of wind would blow her over, but he knew better. Sally was fit and strong, probably the most athletic woman he’d ever met. She was an accomplished rock-climber, an impressive long-distance runner, and her wildness and courage had stolen his heart. In all the years he’d known her, he’d seen her cry only once.
And that had been the day he’d ended their relationship.
Looking at her soft, perfectly shaped mouth, Tom suddenly had trouble remembering why he’d done it, and he cursed mentally, wishing that he’d had time to prepare himself for her arrival.
Why the hell hadn’t someone told him that she was coming?
Warned him?
‘Does Bryony know you’re here?’
She’d been one of his sister’s closest friends and he knew that they’d kept in touch over the years.
One delicate eyebrow lifted a fraction and he saw the challenge in her green gaze. ‘Of course.’
He gritted his teeth. ‘She failed to mention it.’
‘She probably didn’t think you’d be interested.’
It was a less than subtle reminder that he’d been the one to cut her out of his life and Tom ran a hand over the back of his neck, seriously discomfited for the first time in his thirty-four years.
If he’d known she was coming back, he would have had time to prepare—would have somehow arranged for them to have their first meeting in private. Clearly there were things that needed to be said.
As if reminding them both that they weren’t alone, Emma gave a little cough.
‘You know each other?’ Her tone pulsed with a curiosity that she couldn’t hide and she glanced between them with interest.
Sally smiled, nothing in her expression suggesting that she was anything other than totally relaxed. ‘It was a long time ago.’
Her tone suggested a casual acquaintance of long standing, a relationship with no real attachment on either side.
Remembering the explosive passion they’d shared, Tom wondered how she’d managed to forget the incredible intimacies that had bound them together.
And then he looked into those cool green eyes and realized that she hadn’t forgotten.
Neither had she forgiven.
In those green eyes he saw disdain where there had once been adoration, contempt where that had once been unconditional love.
He drew breath slowly, shocked by how severely that contempt unsettled him.
And yet what had he expected?
Had he known she was coming, how would he have anticipated their reunion?
Sally Jenner had every reason to hate him.
‘I heard you were working in the Himalayas.’ Suddenly he wanted to know everything about her. Where she’d been, what she’d been doing. When she’d stopped crying over him.
‘Among other places.’ Her reply was intentionally vague and he saw the flash in those green depths and understood.
Mind your own business, her eyes said. What do you care, anyway?
‘And where are you living now?’
He needed to know. There were things he had to say to her and they certainly couldn’t be said in public.
She ignored his question, her gaze turning to Emma who was still watching them in awed silence. ‘Sorry. This must be very boring for you and I’m sure we need to get on with some work.’
Emma shrugged. ‘Well, if you two want to catch up, I can—’
‘Not at all,’ Sally interrupted her smoothly, moving away from the window and making her way towards the door. ‘We’ve said hello. It was nice to see you, Tom.’
With a few casually spoken words she’d dismissed him as unimportant and Tom wrestled with an inexplicable impulse to power her against the wall and remind her just what they’d shared.
But that would be a totally illogical response, of course, given that he’d been the one to walk away from their relationship.
He’d thrown their relationship away. So why was he now questioning that decision?
Because in thirty-four years he’d never met another woman who stirred his blood like Sally Jenner.
It was only after she’d left the room that he realized that she hadn’t said where she was living.
He narrowed his eyes. There was one person who would definitely know where she was living.
His sister, Bryony.
* * *
‘I can’t believe you know Tom,’ Emma breathed as they walked back down the corridor. ‘You didn’t mention it when I talked about him.’
‘It was a long time ago,’ Sally said smoothly, wishing desperately that she could escape for just five minutes to gather together her scattered emotions. But there was no chance of that.
Almost as soon as they left the staffroom, one of the other midwives appeared, looking stressed.
‘We’ve had two admissions in the last five minutes and one of them is Angela Norris. She’s in a state.’
Emma gave a sigh and turned to Sally. ‘Do you mind being thrown in at the deep end?’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘Angela isn’t going to be easy to look after. She’s only recently moved to the area and she’s going to need a lot of care and attention. This is her second baby. The first was born by Caesarean section and she was promised a section again in her last hospital, but Tom isn’t keen on sectioning women unless there’s no alternative. He’s told her that he wants her to aim for a normal delivery. She isn’t very happy about the whole thing, to be honest.’
Sally felt her whole body tense. ‘So …’ She cleared her throat. ‘Tom will be monitoring her?’
‘Oh, yes—he’ll keep a very close eye on her, especially if he’s concerned about that scar.’
Which meant that she’d be working with him right from the start, with no chance to collect herself.
Sally closed her eyes briefly. What was the matter with her? She’d had seven years to collect herself. How much longer did she need? And she’d always known that taking a job in his department would mean working closely with him. She’d decided that she needed that. If only to prove to herself that she was over him. She’d decided to confront her fears head-on.
And she was going to be fine, she told herself firmly.
He was just a colleague, nothing more. A colleague.
‘I’ll be very happy to look after Angela,’ she said firmly, smiling at Emma. ‘Let’s go.’
Angela was sitting on the bed in one of the rooms, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, a small suitcase at her feet. Her husband sat next to her, visibly tense as he held his wife’s hand and tried to calm her down.
Sally was by her side in an instant, her expression concerned as she slipped an arm around the woman, the need to comfort instinctive in her. ‘Don’t be upset,’ she urged softly, as she quickly introduced herself to the couple. ‘Whatever the problem is, we’ll sort it out together, I promise. This is supposed to be a happy, exciting time.’
Angela took a shuddering breath but her shoulders remained stiff under Sally’s gentle touch. ‘I really want a Caesarean section. It’s what I had last time. It’s what I was expecting. How can doctors say one thing in one place and something completely different in another? I just don’t understand it.’
Her eyes filled again and Sally frowned slightly. ‘I can see why that must be confusing, but the most important thing is to help you relax. Then we can talk about it.’
Angela fumbled for a tissue and blew her nose hard. ‘I want a Caesarean,’ she said emphatically, and Sally nodded.
‘Can you tell me why?’
Angela closed her eyes and put a hand on her bump. ‘Because it’s safer. Oh, help, I’ve got another contraction coming.’
She screwed up her face and concentrated on her breathing while Sally encouraged her gently, smoothing her hand over the top of Angela’s bump so that she could feel the strength of the contraction.
‘That feels like a very strong contraction. Is it going off?’ She felt the tightness ease under her hand and Angela nodded.
‘Thankfully.’ She drew in a deep breath and sighed. ‘I didn’t have any of this with my first one.’
Sally reached for the notes and skimmed them quickly. ‘The baby was breech last time.’
‘That’s right. They told me I’d have to have a section right from the moment they found out, and the doctor told me at the time that if I had another baby that would be a section, too.’
‘Having a section last time doesn’t mean you can’t have a normal delivery this time,’ Sally said carefully, settling herself on the bed next to Angela. ‘And it isn’t necessarily safer, Angela. It depends on the circumstances. A Caesarean section is major abdominal surgery. Sometimes it’s safer for you and the baby, but generally if you can give birth the normal way then that’s preferable. Why don’t we get you settled and then we can have a proper chat?’
Angela took several breaths. ‘The doctor in my last hospital thought a section was the right thing for me. He said it was best.’
Sally took a deep breath. Best for whom? she wondered.
It was certainly true that some obstetricians were quicker to perform Caesareans than others, but the reasons for that weren’t always as clear cut as they might be.
‘All right,’ she said firmly, ‘this is what we’re going to do. I can completely understand that it must be very confusing for you having come from a hospital saying one thing to a hospital saying another …’
Angela looked at her. ‘And I don’t know anyone here,’ she muttered. ‘We had to move here because of Peter’s job. I knew all the midwives at the hospital in London. Here I don’t know anyone.’
Her husband looked racked with guilt. ‘I should never have taken the job.’
Angela sighed and brushed her hair out of her eyes. ‘It’s a good job, and you’ve always wanted to live here.’
‘A sensible man. This is a great place to live,’ Sally said lightly, taking Angela’s hand in hers and squeezing it firmly. ‘I’ll tell you a secret. I don’t know anyone either. I’m a very experienced midwife but this is my first day on this particular unit so we can bond together and keep each other company.’
Angela gave a wobbly smile. ‘But you’ll go off duty before the baby is born.’
Sally shook her head. ‘Not me. All that’s waiting for me at home is lots of unpacking and even more washing so, trust me on this, I’m looking for an excuse to stay at the hospital.’
‘Unpacking?’
‘I’ve been away for a while,’ Sally said with a smile. ‘I haven’t had a chance to settle back in yet.’
Emma cleared her throat. ‘I’ll leave the two of you together.’ She looked at Sally. ‘I’ll let Mr Hunter know that Angela is here.’
Angela sighed. ‘He’s the one who wants me to have it the normal way.’
Her husband took a deep breath. ‘The guy has a brilliant reputation, Angela. I’ve talked to a few people about him. I think you should listen to what he has to say.’
Sally was reading the notes again. ‘I agree with your husband. You need to have a proper talk with him, tell him how you feel.’
‘I’m useless with doctors,’ Angela mumbled. ‘They always intimidate me. Before they arrive in my room I have all these questions, and then once they’re standing there I can’t bring myself to ask any of them.’
‘Well I’ll be with you,’ Sally assured her, ‘and I’ll make sure that he answers all your questions and that you don’t feel intimidated. Let me know when you have another contraction because I want to listen to the baby’s heart.’
Angela screwed up her face and sucked in a breath. ‘I’ve got another pain coming now.’
Sally reached for the Sonicaid and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat echoed around the room.
‘That’s sounding good. Remember your breathing. That’s it. Great …’ Sally coached her gently, timing the contraction, and when Angela finally relaxed again she stood up. ‘Right. I’d like to examine you and see how your labour is progressing, and then I’m going to hook you up to one of our machines just for a short while. Then we’ll find Mr Hunter.’
And that was the bit that she wasn’t looking forward to.
* * *
Tom finished writing up a set of notes and glanced up to find Sally standing there.
His whole body tightened and he rose to his feet, his eyes fixed to hers.
For a moment they stared at each other, the clinical nature of their surroundings forgotten, tension pulsing between them like a living force.
Then she dragged her eyes away from his and took a deep breath.
‘I need to talk to you about Angela.’ Her tone was cool and professional, not a hint of the personal in her manner. ‘I’ve examined her and she’s four centimetres dilated, but it sounds as though she’s been in labour for a while. She’s very anxious. Her last obstetrician said that he was going to section her.’
His brain registered the fact that she was talking about work but the rest of his body was concentrating on something entirely different. His attention was caught by her seductively long lashes and by the fullness of her perfect mouth.
He’d been the first man to kiss that mouth.
The first man to—
With a determined effort he pulled himself together. ‘I’m not planning to section her. I scanned her two weeks ago to measure the thickness of the lower uterine segment and I was perfectly satisfied that she’s a good candidate for vaginal delivery this time round.’
‘Then you need to talk to her,’ Sally said calmly. ‘Because at the moment all she’s hearing is contradiction, and she has no reason to believe you are any more skilled than the last man she spoke to.’
Tom frowned slightly. ‘I talked to her when I scanned her. She was fine.’
‘She was confused and worried.’
‘She didn’t say anything.’
‘Verbally, perhaps not. But did you read her body language?’ Her eyes held his. ‘She finds doctors intimidating. She was afraid to question you.’
Tom tensed, significantly discomfited by her implication that he’d been insensitive to the needs of a patient.
But, then, why would Sally believe that he was capable of sensitivity?
He gritted his teeth and took the criticism on the chin. ‘Believe it or not, I do try to interpret what women are feeling. I certainly don’t want them worried by anything I’ve said.’
‘Well, she’s worried,’ Sally said flatly, ‘and at the moment she is totally convinced that what she needs is another C-section.’
Tom inhaled sharply. ‘Caesarean rates have been steadily increasing over the last two decades,’ he said harshly. ‘Eighty per cent of women can safely deliver vaginally after a previous section, providing they meet certain criteria.’
Her gaze didn’t flicker. ‘I’m well aware of that.’ Her voice was smoky and soft and curled around his raw emotions like the smoothest silk. ‘All I’m saying is that she’d been told she was having another Caesarean and then you told her she wasn’t, and she didn’t understand how two doctors could say such different things. She deserves an explanation. In fact, I’d go as far as to say she needs an explanation, otherwise she will be far too anxious to concentrate on her labour. She’s stressed and I’m sure you’re aware of the evidence that suggests that stress can reduce uterine activity.’
He listened, intrigued by the change he saw in her.
This wasn’t the Sally he’d known.
When had she developed such poise and confidence? he wondered, his eyes sliding over the determined jut of her chin and the set of her narrow shoulders. He could remember clearly a time when she’d hung on to his every word as if he were some sort of god. When she’d been so lacking in self-confidence that she’d barely been able to make a decision without help.
Now she stood her ground, challenging him to defend his decision without displaying a flicker of discomfort, every bit his equal.
‘I’ll talk to her,’ he said finally, slipping his pen into his pocket and closing the notes in which he’d been writing. ‘We’ll do it together. Then you can tell me if I’m insensitive.’
He strolled round the desk and saw her back away hastily, as if she was afraid that he might touch her.
The realization that he wanted to do just that came as a shock.
For a moment their eyes held, and if they hadn’t been standing in the middle of the labour ward, in full view of anyone who happened to pass, Tom would have kissed that soft mouth that he remembered so well.
He’d been addicted to her mouth. The look of it, the feel of it under his, the taste of it …
‘We need to talk, Sally,’ he said roughly. ‘In private.’
In fact, he realized with a sudden stab of shock that he wanted to do a great deal more than talk.
Something flickered in those green depths. ‘No.’ Her voice was low but firm and she glanced over her shoulder quickly, as if she was afraid someone might have overheard his comment. ‘We don’t need to talk.’
Tom drew in a long breath, finding it difficult to know how to respond to this new, confident Sally.
In the old days she would have talked.
In the old days she couldn’t get enough of him.
They’d talked for hours about everything and anything.
‘All right, then, I’ll talk and you can just listen. There are things I need to say to you.’
They couldn’t pretend that the past hadn’t happened.
If they were going to be able to work together effectively, then at the very least they needed to clear the air.
She looked at him. ‘You said everything that needed to be said on the last occasion we met.’ Her gaze was clear and direct and her voice was remarkably steady. ‘And I got your message, Tom. Loud and clear.’
