A Father for Her Baby

Sam blinked in the light from her torch. ‘Am I glad to see you.’

‘How secure do you think the truck is?’

‘I haven’t felt it move at all. From the sound when we hit I think we’re jammed against rocks.’

Some good news. At least they weren’t about to plummet down to where the road twisted across the hillside directly beneath.

‘Sasha, I’m real worried about Lucy.’

The fear in Sam’s voice had her squatting down by the shattered window to shine the torch inside. Blood had splattered over most of the interior. Lucy hung upside down, half in, half out of her seat belt, a huge gash across the side of her head.

‘She hasn’t said a word the whole time.’ Sam’s voice trembled. ‘What if—?’ he choked.

‘Hold that thought, Sam.’ Darn, but she hated it when friends were hurting. Placing her free hand on Sam’s shoulder, she tried for a reassuring squeeze. ‘I’ll check Lucy over. But what about you? Where are you hurting?’ At least he was upright, though what injuries he’d sustained when the truck had rolled didn’t bear thinking about.

‘To hell with me. Look after Lucy, will you?’

‘Okay. But keep talking to me.’ The way his voice faded in and out didn’t bode well. ‘Tell me where you hurt. Did you bang your head?’ He had to have, surely? ‘Are you bleeding anywhere? Stuff like that.’ Talking might keep him focused and make the minutes tick by a little faster than if he just sat watching and worrying over his wife. Really? That was the theory but theory often sucked. ‘Shine my torch so I can see what I’m doing.’

Hand over hand she grabbed at the edge of the truck’s grille and made her way to the other side. Not easy clambering over frozen rocks with a bump the size of a basketball under her jacket. Flipper must’ve got the seriousness of the situation because she’d gone nice and quiet with those feet. Automatically rubbing her tummy, Sasha muttered, ‘Thanks, sweetheart. Mummy owes you.’

Reaching through where the window used to be, she felt carefully for Lucy’s throat and the carotid. ‘There you go. Lucy’s got a pulse. She’s alive, Sam.’

One big sniff. ‘Thank you, lass. Can you get her down from that seat belt? I don’t like her hanging like that. Can’t be doing her any good.’

‘We’re going to have to wait for the rescue guys. I could do more damage than good if I cut her free.’ Tilting her wrist to see her watch, Sasha counted Lucy’s pulse. Slightly low but not too bad, considering. ‘You haven’t told me about your injuries yet, Sam.’

Carefully feeling Lucy’s head, neck, and arms for injuries, she tried to work out how long would it take for the rescue crowd to get here. How long since that car had driven away? Had the driver got that this was an emergency? Swallow hard. Toughen up. It would be at least forty-five minutes before anyone showed up. Make that an hour by the time everyone’d been phoned. Then there were the road conditions to contend with.

Focusing on diverting Sam’s attention—and hers—she said, ‘You and Lucy were coming home late.’

‘Been to tea with the kids in Nelson.’ He went quiet.

A glance showed his eyes droop shut. ‘Sam.’

He blinked. ‘Roads are real bad.’

‘Very dicey.’ It wasn’t the first time she’d driven this road in the aftermath of a winter storm, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Unless she changed her mind about staying in Golden Bay like Tina wanted. Now her friend was a happily married woman she seemed to think she had the right to fix Sasha’s life. Worse, the guy Tina had thought would solve all her present problems had been nice—in a wet blanket kind of way. Tina was probably making up for the fact she’d introduced the greaseball to her in the first place.

‘Sorry, Tina, but which bit of no more men for me didn’t you get?’

‘Who’s Tina? Is someone else here?’

‘Talking to myself. A bad habit I really should get over.’

Taking a thick cotton pad from her kit, Sasha taped it over Lucy’s head wound. Hopefully that would slow the blood loss. She kept prattling on about anything and everything in an attempt to keep Sam with her. Having him slip into unconsciousness would make it harder for the rescue crew to remove him.

Glancing at her watch, she stifled a groan of despair. Twelve-twenty. The rescue crews couldn’t be too far away now. Could they? What if the road was worse between here and Takaka? Don’t even go there. She knew those men, had gone to school with some of them, now worked with others. They would come through. It might take some effort and time but they’d be here as soon as it was humanly possible.

‘S-Sasha, h-how’s Lucy?’ Sam’s teeth clacked together as shivers rattled him.

Sasha winced. A couple of thermal blankets would be very welcome right about now for her patients. Her own toes were numb, her fingers much the same since she’d removed her gloves to attend to Lucy, and she wasn’t stuck, unable to move. At least Flipper would be warm. She answered, ‘Breathing normally and the bleeding’s stopped.’

After what felt like a lifetime flashing lights cut through the dark night. Relief slipped under her skin. ‘The ambulance’s here. Now we’ll see some action.’

The first voice she heard was Mike’s, one of the GPs she worked for at the Golden Bay Medical and Wellbeing Centre. ‘You down there, Sasha?’

She stood upright, grabbing the doorframe for balance. ‘Yep, and I’ve got Lucy and Sam with me.’

Before she’d finished telling him, Mike had joined her. Rebecca, one of the ambulance volunteers, was right behind him.

Mike asked, ‘What’ve we got?’

‘Sam’s legs are caught under the steering-wheel. Lucy’s entangled upside down in her seat belt.’ Sasha quickly filled them in on the scant medical details. Above them a tow truck pulled up, quickly followed by another heavy four-wheel-drive vehicle. Then the fire truck laden with men equipped with cutting gear and rescue equipment arrived. ‘I love it when the cavalry turns up.’

Mike grinned. ‘Guess it does feel like that. You want to wait in the warmth of the ambulance? Thaw out a bit before we send one of these two up to you?’

For once she didn’t mind being set aside so others could get on with the job. She wasn’t in a position to take the weight of either Lucy or Sam as they were freed and lifted onto stretchers. The strain might affect her baby in some way and that was not going to happen. ‘On my way.’ Though it wouldn’t be as easy going up the bank as it had been coming down.

Mike read her mind. ‘There’s a rope to haul yourself back up to the top, as you’re more of a small whale than a goat these days.’

She swiped at his arm before taking the end of rope he held out to her. ‘Thanks, Doc.’

‘Is that Sam’s truck? Is he hurt badly? Anyone with him?’ The questions were fired at her before she’d even got her feet back on the road.

Doing her slip-slide ballet manoeuvre and with a lot of men reaching for her, she managed to stand upright and steady. ‘Lucy’s unconscious and Sam’s fading in and out.’ Sasha glanced around at the mostly familiar faces, relief that they were here warming her chilled blood.

Then she froze. Like the air in her lungs had turned to ice crystals. The heat left her veins. Her eyes felt as though they were popping out of their sockets. Tell me I’m hallucinating. Her head spun, making her dizzy. Her mouth tasted odd as her tongue did a lap. Can’t be him. Her numb fingers hurt as she gripped someone’s arm to stay upright. Not now. Not here.

But, of course, she wasn’t imaging anything. That would’ve meant something going in her favour for a change. Grady O’Neil was for real. Eleven years older and more world-weary but definitely Grady. No mistaking that angular jaw, those full lips that were nearly always smiling—except not right at this moment—and... Her shoulders rose, dropped back in place. He hadn’t been smiling the last time she’d seen him either. When he’d told her he didn’t love her any more he’d had the decency to keep at bay that wicked smile that made her knees melt. The first man to hurt her. But he didn’t have that on his own any more. There’d been others. She so didn’t do well with picking men.

The urge to run overwhelmed her. Her left foot came off the ground as she began turning in the direction of her vehicle. Sliding on the ice and falling down hard on your butt would be such a good look. And could harm Flipper. Deal with this. Now. Breathe in, one, two, three. Breathe out. ‘Grady.’ She dipped her head. ‘It’s been a while.’

A while? How’s that for a joke? Why wasn’t he laughing? A while. Far too long. Huh? No. She meant not nearly long enough. Didn’t she? Oh, yeah, definitely not long enough. Yet here he stood, a few feet from her, as big and strong and virile as ever. And that was with layers of thick warm clothes covering that body she apparently still remembered too well.

You shouldn’t be remembering a thing about that amazing year. You’re long over him and the hurt he caused. True? Absolutely.

She fought the need to revisit Grady and everything he’d meant to her, instead aimed for calm and friendly, as though his unexpected appearance didn’t matter at all. ‘What are you doing here?’ Big fail. Her voice rose as though a hand gripped her throat. Memories from those wonderful carefree days she’d stashed away in a mental box some place in the back of her head were sneaking out and waving like flags in a breeze, threatening to swamp her.

Swallowing hard, she focused on now, not the past. Why had Grady turned up? Golden Bay was her territory. Not his. He’d only come for summer holidays and that had been years ago. He’d be visiting. But who? Not her, for sure. Her tummy sucked in on itself, setting Flipper off on a lap of her swimming pool, nudging Sasha every few seconds, underlining how unimportant Grady was in the scheme of things.

Sasha dug deeper than she’d ever done before for every bit of willpower she could muster to hold off rubbing her extended belly. She would not draw those all-seeing blue eyes to her pregnant state. That was hers alone to cope with. She certainly didn’t need Grady asking about her baby.

His smile seemed genuine, though wary. Which it damn well ought to be. ‘Hi, Sash. This is a surprise. I didn’t expect to run into you while I was here.’

Sash. That certainly set free a load of hot memories. Her nipples tightened, her thighs clenched. Grady still drawled her name out like he was tasting it, enjoying it.

He couldn’t be. He’d lost any right to those sensations the day he’d told her he didn’t love her enough to spend the rest of his life with her. Yet he was checking her out. Her pulse sped up as that steady gaze trawled over her, starting with her face and tracking slowly down her chin, her throat, over the swell of her breasts under the thickness of her jacket, on down to Flipper. As his gaze dropped further the breath she’d been hanging onto trickled over her lips. He hadn’t noticed the six-month bulge. Guess the thick jersey and heavy jacket she wore made her look larger than normal anyway.