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The noise of the crowds and the hustle and bustle were instantly distracting. The announcements over the PA and the piped music gave her something else to think about. The concentration required to calculate discounts and specials and colour co-ordinate with her existing wardrobe was wonderfully absorbing. OK, her local shopping mall was hardly Oxford Street but it was good therapy nevertheless.
Yes, there were probably healthier ways of dealing with work stress. Fitness freaks probably would have jogged it out of their system. Or gone to the gym. Or to their favourite health-food bar and overdosed on carrot juice and wheatgrass smoothies.
Or some may even have rung a close work colleague or their best friend and debriefed. Gone out for a drink. Shot the breeze. Sought some female comfort. But Hailey had felt too disconnected from her friends since her return from overseas to have even considered that option.
Still, shopping was better than some pursuits. A nurse she’d befriended in London used to go out to a nightclub and pick up a man after a particularly harrowing shift. She’d maintained that there was nothing like sex to make you forget. And perhaps she’d been right. But Hailey was hard pressed at the moment not to think of sex and Callum Craig together so that definitely hadn’t been an option.
Hailey’s mobile rang while she was in a fitting room. It was Rilla.
‘Hello?’ she murmured in a low voice, not wanting every other customer in the change rooms to be privy to her conversation.
‘Hailey? Is that you?’
‘Yes,’ she murmured again.
‘Why are you whispering? I can barely hear you.’
‘I’m not whispering!’ she muttered crankily. ‘I’m kind of occupied right now. What do you want?’
‘Beth and I are coming over. We’ll be there about seven. Don’t cook—we’ll bring food.’
‘Rilla.’ Hailey shook her head. Her sisters must have heard about Henry. One disadvantage to having your entire family working in the same medical facility. ‘There’s no need.’
‘Yes. There is. See you later.’
Hailey stared at the dead phone. She looked at her watch. Five-thirty! An hour and a half, and the apartment was a mess. She wriggled out of the jeans she was trying on and dressed quickly.
Peak-hour traffic was the pits and she tapped impatiently on the steering-wheel as her time narrowed further. She screeched into her parking space with less than thirty minutes to spare. She loaded herself up with her parcels, shunning the often slow lifts and thinking of how great seven flights of stairs would be for her butt and calves. If they didn’t kill her first.
She took them steadily, pleased to realise her afternoon of shopping and the mad dash home had left her no time to think about the way her shift had ended. Or Callum Craig either, for that matter. Not his quiet confidence in the face of a crisis or his hand on her shoulder, asking her if she was OK.
Although his wicked wink during the ward round did rear its head at her as she dashed up the last ten steps, her thighs screaming in protest. Her foot faltered briefly as she thought about his panroom visit. In that split second, distracted by the memory, she misjudged the tread and stumbled, pitching forward, her ankle twisting as she landed unceremoniously in a crumpled heap, her parcels covering her, half spilling their contents over the hallway.
Hailey cried out as a stabbing pain tore through her ankle and she shut her eyes against the quick sting of tears that filled her vision.
‘Are you all right?’
She kept her eyes shut, ignoring the concerned male voice as the pain gripped relentlessly. She nodded, holding her breath, biting her lip against the very unladylike oath on the tip of her tongue. Did she look all right sprawled on the floor like this?
‘Will she be OK, Daddy?’
Hailey’s eyes shot open, the pain temporarily overridden. It couldn’t be. Tom stared down at her. She blinked. Callum was kneeling on the floor beside her, his worried face peering down into hers. Suddenly, despite the pain slowly releasing her from its grip, things just got a whole lot worse.
‘What are you doing here?’ It slipped out before she could stop it but honestly! Was he stalking her?
Callum frowned. ‘Hailey?’
‘Hailey!’ Tom grinned, waving at her frantically.
Tom’s waggling fingers were nauseating from that angle so she moved gingerly, rising up onto her elbows, wincing as pain clawed at her ankle again.
‘Don’t move,’ Callum ordered, placing a stilling hand on her shoulder. ‘You may have injured your neck.’
‘I did not injure my neck,’ she grouched. Just my pride. ‘I hurt my ankle, that’s all.’
Tom knelt beside her too, mimicking his father. She noted his torch firmly ensconced under his arm. He placed a hand on her arm. ‘My daddy’s a doctor,’ he said solemnly. ‘Better do as he says.’
