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‘Might be a while before you get to volcanoes,’ Mac put in drily.
Marty laughed, then bent to examine his new nephew.
‘He certainly looks good, given how premmie he is,’ he said, and Mac nodded.
‘He’s the unit champ already,’ he said, and the note of pride in Mac’s voice pierced through a special shield Marty had wrapped around his heart.
No babies! he reminded himself, but he knew the wound remained and always would.
But Nikki was pointing out his tiny toes, and Marty found a smile for this girl he’d known since she’d been born.
‘You were in a crib like this, and you had even tinier toes,’ he told her, and she laughed.
Which was a good way to leave them, Marty decided.
‘Well, I’d better get the crew back to Braxton,’ he said, kissing Nikki and patting Mac on the shoulder. ‘Give Izzy my love, and Nikki, tell Hallie to phone me when you’re both ready to go home.’
‘I can phone you. I do have a phone, you know,’ Nikki told him, so he was smiling as he left.
Still smiling when he reached the chopper to find Emma sitting where he’d left her.
‘Didn’t you want refreshment?’ he asked, and she looked up as if he’d startled her.
Her eyes met his and messages he couldn’t understand seemed to flash between them, messages that made him feel hot, and light-headed at the same time.
Made him want to close the distance between them in long strides and take her in his arms…
Kiss the eyes that sent him messages…
Was he nuts?
This was Emma.
Emma, who’d already suffered two terrible losses in her life. No way could he cause her more disruption. Yes, he was attracted to her—maybe very attracted to her—but…
But what?
Love?
He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, aware that this wasn’t the first time that word had filled it when he thought of Emma…
* * *
She watched him walk towards her, feeling such a mix of emotions she didn’t have a clue which one dominated.
Attraction was in there for sure, but it was more than that. It was something deep inside her gut, some instinct that was telling her stupid things, telling her this man was important in her life and—worse—that she wanted him there.
He is in your life, stupid, she told herself. He’s a friend, a colleague, almost a relation if Ned’s friendship with Carrie leads to something more…
He’d reached her now, and settled himself beside her in the doorway.
‘Tell me?’
It was gently asked, his voice deep and slightly husky, and it would have been foolishly naïve to ask him what he meant.
‘I met Simon, my husband, when I started work as an intern in the ED of a big Sydney hospital. He was senior staff and I knew he’d barely notice me, but he did. I’d already noticed him—thought him wonderful, and although at the time that was more hero worship of a junior to a very accomplished man, I found out he was wonderful. He was everything a top ED specialist should be—kind, caring, compassionate yet firm with drunks and time-wasters.’
She glanced at Marty, wondering how he was taking this—really wondering why he’d asked…
‘Tough competition for any bloke coming along now,’ he said, and she felt a little spurt of anger.
‘Well, it shouldn’t worry you, because you’re not, are you?’
‘Not what?’ he asked, all innocence.
‘Competition! You don’t do commitment, remember?’ she snapped. ‘Now, do you want me to finish or not?’
Talking about Simon had stirred up the memories she usually kept tucked carefully away in a box in the back of her mind, but now she saw him in her mind’s eye, striding through the ED, flashing a smile here, touching a shoulder there, always so equable, so patient—always with time for everyone.
Especially for her.
Always for her…
‘Please,’ Marty said, and it took her a moment to remember what she’d asked.
Could she go on?
Best if she did.
Hadn’t Dad been telling her she should talk about the man she’d loved, if only for the boys’ sake?
‘We got married; I kept working until I fell pregnant then Simon began to get headaches, not telling me at first—not, in fact, until he’d seen a specialist, had all the scans and tests, and been told he only had six weeks to live.’
Try as she might, she couldn’t shut the box of memories now and her eyes blurred with tears.
‘I’ve told you most of the rest—the “why me” reaction that is purely selfish, then living with a loved one’s pain, feeling his suffering and knowing I couldn’t ease it, pretending all the time that life goes on when, really, it doesn’t—it stands still, seemingly forever…’
