City Surgeon, Small Town Miracle

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘NO REST for the wicked, you two.’

Terri looked around to see Dianne grinning at them from the doorway of the staff lounge.

‘What’s up?’ Luke said.

‘Three victims of a minor MVA on the way in. Details are sketchy but nothing serious by the sound of it. They’ve been scooped up by a Good Samaritan. ETA about five minutes.’

‘Thanks, Dianne.’ Luke picked up his mug and took a quick swallow as he rose to his feet. ‘I’m on my way.’

‘No worries.’ The nurse gave them a quick indulgent smile and disappeared.

Terri’s heart squeezed as Luke winked at her. He leaned down, his breath whispering over her ear as he murmured, ‘I wonder how she knows we’ve been wicked, darling.’

She inhaled sharply then sputtered when her mouthful of coffee went down the wrong way. As she coughed, Luke helpfully patted her a couple of times between the shoulder blades.

‘It might have something to do with being seen all over Port Cavill for the last two weeks holding hands,’ she gasped between small coughs.

‘Good point. Still, nice to have something true circulating on a hospital grapevine for a change.’

He looked so pleased with himself that she couldn’t help laughing. Her own insouciance surprised her. The magic of her relationship with Luke had infected her with a carefree spirit that she hadn’t felt for years.

Her gaze followed him to the sink, enjoying a quick feast on the lean length of him. She loved the way he moved, confident and full of masculine grace.

He turned, catching her eye, and his smile filled with mischievous intimacy. ‘Relax and finish your coffee.’

‘Thanks.’ Her cheeks flooded with warmth as she grinned. ‘I won’t be long.’

A tiny shadow marred her happiness as she watched him leave the room. She still hadn’t told him everything. Surely it wasn’t so bad if she left it a little longer. Everyday was bringing her a greater sense of belonging, an easiness which meant the words, the courage would come soon.

She sighed as she got up and crossed to the sink. The little pact she was making with herself had disaster written all over it. This weekend. She would talk to Luke this weekend. That gave her just over three days to find the right way to broach the subject.

As she walked down the corridor, she saw Luke and Dianne heading towards the front door. The MVA victims must have arrived. She picked up her pace.

She turned into the main emergency foyer and the scene in front of her exploded into her senses.

A woman. Pregnant. Her groin and legs covered in red. Screams tore at Terri’s ears.

‘My baby. I don’t want to lose my baby. Please, help me. I’ve hurt my baby.’

The air around Terri’s legs turned to heavy syrup, dragging at her steps until she stopped. She felt disembodied. Time jerked past frame by frame.

‘Pete! Where’s Pete?’ the woman sobbed. ‘Our baby…’

Images flashed onto Terri’s retinas, blotting out the scene before her.

Baby in peril.

Mother injured.

Blood everywhere.

Nausea swept up from her toes. She couldn’t do this. Not again. She couldn’t help them. She couldn’t move.

Each pore on her skin iced over. She was failing.

Again.

Failing.

Luke flicked a glance at Terri.

Something was terribly, terribly wrong. She was rigid, face as white as a sheet, eyes fixed on the screaming woman.

‘Terri!’

Oh, God. His voice wasn’t reaching her.

He wanted to go to her, hold her, shield her from whatever nightmare was holding her in its thrall. He sensed Terri’s crisis was the bigger emergency, but the patient in front of him was rapidly descending into hysteria.

‘I’ve hurt my baby. Please, save my baby.’ The woman clutched at his arm, dragging his attention back to her.

‘We’ve got you now,’ he said calmly. ‘What’s your name?’

‘N-Nadia.’

‘Nadia, we’re looking after you and your baby. Are you in any pain?’

‘N-no.’ She hiccuped and looked at him in surprise. ‘Not now.’

As he and Dianne settled Nadia on a gurney, Luke glanced across the foyer. Terri was gone.

It was paint, for God’s sake. Nadia and her husband, Pete, had been travelling with an open can of paint-the pregnant woman had been holding it between her knees so she could stir it.

A contraction had caught them by surprise and Peter had driven into their front fence. With the impact, red paint had gone everywhere. A neighbour had piled the hapless pair into his car and brought them into hospital.

The contractions hadn’t continued so no pattern has been established. Luke suspected it had been a set of Braxton-Hicks’ contractions perhaps exacerbated by Nadia’s fear. They’d keep her in hospital for a few hours and monitor her to make sure everything was as it should be. The baby’s heartbeat was strong and regular.

He’d packed Nadia and her husband off to the showers to wash away the last of the paint and now he had to attend to the real emergency.

Terri.

‘Anyone seen Terri?’

‘I haven’t seen her since…the call about Nadia and Pete,’ Dianne answered, and the others looked around blankly.

‘If you do, page me, stat. Please.’ He ground his teeth. ‘Same goes for any emergencies. I’m going to find her.’

Aware of the circle of concerned faces, he walked out of the department, leaving no words to soothe their fears. He had none.

Urgency drove his steps. He had to find Terri. She’d been shattered. Something about that case had pushed her into some private hell. He’d seen a glimpse of her terror before she’d disappeared. More than terror, she’d looked in danger of disintegrating.

He worked methodically, checking every room. Would she have gone all the way home? For some reason he didn’t think she’d have been able to get that far.

She’d been like a wounded animal, looking for somewhere to tend her injuries, a private place.

He finally found her outside, behind the new gazebo. She was on her knees with her arms wrapped around her body. He could see her knuckles were white as though by gripping tightly she might hold herself together. But even that self-hug wasn’t enough comfort for her. She rocked in a small rhythmic movement that broke his heart.

Weak sun shone on the chocolate of her hair, picking out bright threads of red and chestnut in the thick mane.

He crouched beside her, touched her lightly on the shoulder.

She jerked, her reflex beyond a normal fright response. He could feel the fine tremors that raced through her chilled flesh.

‘Terri.’

The rocking started again.

‘Talk to me, darling. Please.’

‘No p-point. There’s no point. It won’t help. You can’t help me. No-one can. G-go away. Please. Just…go away.’

He sat on the ground beside her, not caring about grass stains, and gathered her rigid body close.

‘Tell me anyway,’ he said as he rubbed her back.

For the longest silence, he just held her, rocked with her. Hoped that his body heat would help to thaw her.

‘S-so much blood.’

‘It was red paint.’ But she didn’t hear him.

‘So much blood,’ she whispered. ‘She killed her husband, sh-she killed her baby.’

‘No! No she didn’t. Terri, listen to me. Her husband is fine. She’s fine. She mightn’t even be in labour.’

‘But the blood…’ She shuddered

He took her face between his hands.

‘Terri. Look at me.’ Her eyes slowly focussed on him. ‘It wasn’t blood.’

‘N-not blood?’ She sounded confused, as though he was speaking a foreign language.

‘Paint. It was paint.’

‘P-paint?’ She tested the word as though trying to divine its meaning.

‘Red paint. Nadia was in the car with an open can of red paint between her knees. She was stirring it.’

‘I s-saw all the r-red.’

‘I know, darling. I want you to come back now.’

‘I c-can’t. I mustn’t. The b-baby…sh-she’ll lose the b-baby. You can’t trust m-me.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘B-bad things happen. I killed my husband. I killed Peter.’

‘The terrorists killed Peter.’

‘And my b-baby. I killed my baby.’

‘You lost your baby in the explosion?’ Oh, God. How had she coped with that, alone, having just lost a husband as well? His heart ached for her. No wonder she was struggling.

‘Yes. My fault. It was all my fault.’

‘Why?’ He needed to hear it all as much as she needed to tell him.

‘I stayed too long. I stayed too long. I should have left as soon as I found out. But I didn’t. I killed my baby.’

‘Oh, darling, no. No, you didn’t,’ he said gently. ‘You’re a wonderful, brave woman who’s carried a terrible burden all by herself.’

‘My baby. My poor baby.’ She made a strangled sound deep in her chest and then the tears started in huge shuddering sobs. His heart broke for her. Just listening to her story was painful beyond belief. He felt powerless in the face of her grief.

Her arms clung to him, desperation in their strength. All he could do was hold her, be her rock. He was going to stand by her, to help her heal. Hold her when she needed to cry, encourage her when she was moving forward.

He would love her and protect her and support her until she was better.

And then, by God, she was going to marry him so he could love and cherish her as she deserved for the rest of her life.

Her sobs gradually quieted until the only sound was the distant shushing of the waves.

Reluctantly, he broke the moment. ‘Do you trust me, Terri?’

‘Yes.’ Her voice sounded raw from the weeping, still full of tears ready to be shed.

He was going to ask her to do more, to be braver. To do something that he sensed she needed to do. A first minute step on the journey back to normality.

‘I want you to come with me now. Come and see the young couple who came in earlier. Nadia and Pete.’

‘Nadia and P-Pete?’

‘Yes.’

‘I can’t,’ she said. With the storm of weeping over she’d moved into a passive acceptance of hopelessness. ‘There’s no point. It’s over.’

‘You can.’ He felt like such a bastard asking anything of her when she was so raw and vulnerable. Setting his jaw, he continued, ‘Nothing is over. There’s every point to coming back.’

It was important not to let her withdraw. He was afraid for her, afraid for himself that he would lose her, if he let her retreat now.

‘Come on. Wash your face, powder your nose, whatever it is that you need to do to face the world again today. Just for a few minutes.’

‘I can’t d-do anything for them. I ran away.’ She looked at him through a welling veil of tears. ‘I f-failed.’

He steeled himself against weakening. ‘You ran away because you’re traumatised. You haven’t failed. I don’t want you to do anything for them, I just want you to come and meet them. Not for long, just to see that they are okay. Come on, Terri. You can do it.’

She looked at him and then finally, she took a deep breath and said, ‘I’ll try.’

The bravery in those tiny, barely audible words brought a painful lump to his throat. ‘That’s all I’m asking, darling.’

Anxiety pinched at him as he helped her to her feet. She felt so shaky and frail. The last of her strength and vitality had leached away with her tears, leaving this frighteningly fragile husk.

He clenched his teeth. He needed to find out as much as he could about post-traumatic stress disorder. Stat.

Cuddling her close to his body, he walked her back to the building. Outside the women’s bathroom he stopped and opened the door, ushering her inside. ‘I’ll wait outside. Yell if you need me.’

She nodded.

‘I’ll check on you in five if you’re not out.’

She gave him a wan smile. ‘I’ll be out.’

‘Okay.’

He shut the door behind him and braced one hand on the wall. Terri needed his help and she was going to get it. Whether she wanted it or not. He was in awe of the fact that she’d come this far carrying the weight of her grief alone. But she didn’t have to do it on her own from now on. She had him to help. He wasn’t going to let her go. She would not shut him out, he wouldn’t let her.

He felt a touch on his arm and turned to see Dianne looking up at him, her face creased with worry. ‘Is Terri all right?’

‘She’s had a shock, Dianne. She’ll be shaky for a while but she’ll be all right. I’ll make sure of it,’ he said grimly.

‘Good. If there’s anything any of us can do, just say the word.’

‘Thanks, Dianne.’

Luke kept the visit to the now-sheepish young couple short and upbeat before ushering Terri out of their room.

In the privacy of the staff lounge, he ran the backs of his fingers over her pale cheek. ‘Go home, darling.’

‘Luke, I think…’ She took a deep breath in. ‘I think I’d rather keep busy. Please?’

‘Terri…love…you’ve had a hell of a shock. Cut yourself some slack and take the rest of the shift off. It’s only an hour.’

She gave him a haunted look.

He stifled a sigh. ‘Tell me honestly, do you feel up to being here?’

Her mouth opened then slowly closed, her shoulders slumping. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No. You’re right. There’s no point being here.’

‘Darling, go home. Rest, walk along the beach.’

She nodded.

‘I’ll come and see you as soon as I can.’

Another nod before she turned and walked away. He watched her go. Had he done the right thing? But what else could he do?

She looked so crushed and utterly defeated that he almost called her back.

Just over an hour later, Luke took some correspondence back to his office. A single piece of paper lay in the middle of his desk. Cold inevitability gripped him as he leaned across and picked it up.

A resignation. Neatly typed. Terri must have gone straight home to write the damned letter.

No way was he going to let her run away like this. He couldn’t. She needed help and support from people who loved her. Specifically, she needed his help, his support. He loved her.

He practised the persuasive words he’d use as he walked down to the beach cottage. When he got there the door was ajar but the place had an oddly deserted feel.

He knocked. Icy fear thrummed through him when there was no response. He yanked open the door then strode from room to room.

No sign of Terri but plenty of signs that she’d been here and been busy.

A suitcase lay open on the bed they’d made love in. Folded clothes sat in piles, waiting to be added to the case. As though she’d started packing but had been distracted from the task.

In the kitchen, pots and pans had been thrown haphazardly into a box on the bench. There was no chance that the lid could be fastened with the way handles bristled above the sides. At the other end of the bench was a stack of plates and a collection of glasses.

Without pausing, he opened the back door and stepped on to the verandah. A half-empty mug of coffee sat on the edge. He could imagine her sitting here drinking it, staring towards the beach. Was that where she was now?

His pulse fluttered as he jogged off the verandah towards the trees. He didn’t know what to expect, refused to think about what he might find.

She would be there.

She would be there…

And she was.

The tension in his body loosened abruptly, leaving his gut aching and his knees rubbery. She was sitting on the sand, hunched over with her arms wrapped around her shins as she stared out to sea.

Jamming his hands into his pockets, he took a deep shuddering breath. Damp, briny sea air filled his lungs and he stood for a moment collecting his wits before he walked closer to his still oblivious target. When he was several feet from her, he stopped. Keeping his tone carefully neutral, he said, ‘You’ve been busy since I saw you.’

She started as though he’d yelled at her.

‘You know I’m not going to accept your resignation.’ He stepped forward and lowered himself to the sand beside her, but not touching.

‘You should.’ She sounded so cold, so remote.

He had to connect with her so that she would listen to him.

‘Why should I?’

Her head came around at his question and she looked at him. A frown slowly pleated her forehead as she thought about her answer. ‘Because I can’t be trusted. My judgement is flawed.’ She shrugged and turned to face the water again. Her voice was too matter-of-fact for the agony behind the words she spoke. ‘I’m so brittle I feel like I could fly apart.’

‘Terri, you’re suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.’

She didn’t acknowledge him.

He tried again. ‘You need to get help so you can recover.’

Her gaze stayed on the horizon.

‘You have so much courage. I’m asking you to use some now.’ He watched her profile for any sign that he’d reached her. ‘For me and for Allie. We need you. I need you.’

‘Allie.’ She shook her head and her chin trembled for a tiny fraction of a second. ‘I don’t know if I can be whatever it is that you need, whatever it is that she needs. You can’t trust me to make good decisions.’

‘I can trust you. I do trust you. It’s you who doesn’t trust you. And you should. You have wonderful judgement. Your thinking is just a bit scrambled at the moment because of your experiences.’

‘You make it sound easy.’ She shook her head. ‘But it’s not. I’m empty. You and Allie deserve more than I can give you.’

‘Not true, darling. We deserve you. You’re the person who saw what my daughter and I needed. You’re the person who brought us together after months of grief.’ He felt as though he was fighting a battle with no weapons, nothing to hold onto, nothing to let him see if he was making headway. He was losing her. ‘I know it’s not easy. I hear your pain, I felt your heartbreak when you cried in my arms.’

‘Stop. Luke-’

‘I know I can’t understand what you’re going through. But I know this, I’m here for you’ He swallowed, feeling the crushing pain in his chest. ‘I love you, Terri.’

Her hands came up to cover her face and her shoulders began to shake. He’d reached her but in doing so he’d given her more pain.

He pulled her into his arms and laid his cheek on her hair as he absorbed the tremors that shook her.

‘It’s okay, darling, it’s okay.’ He murmured the words over and over, knowing how very far from the truth they were.

At last, her sobs quietened.

‘I feel broken.’ Her voice was still thick with tears.

‘You’re in pain, darling, but the bits of you are all there. We’ll find help and you can put them all back together again.’

‘I feel so bad.’ She took a deep shaky breath. ‘What if I can’t be fixed? What if this is me? What if…I can’t be a doctor any more?’

‘Then you can be anything you like.’ He stroked her hair. ‘Be my wife.’

He felt shock ripple through her. He hadn’t meant to say the words, not yet. But it was what he wanted. After a moment, she tipped her head back and looked at him.

‘Marry me,’ he said.

‘Oh, Luke.’ Her face screwed up in pain. ‘I w-want to accept your proposal s-so badly. But I c-can’t. It wouldn’t be fair.’

Pain squeezed his chest. ‘To whom?’ he asked softly.

‘To you, to Allie.’ She looked into the distance. ‘Maybe even to me.’

‘Can you tell me why not?’ He smothered the fear that clawed at him and held onto one tiny skerrick of hope. She hadn’t refused him outright.

‘Because I don’t think I know who I am any more. I need help to find out.’ Her eyes came back to his holding a plea for understanding. ‘What if I’ve changed? I’m not sure I can handle the weight of your disappointment.’

His spirits swooped but he made himself give her a nod of reassurance. ‘Then let’s find you some help and see where it takes you. I want to marry you, Terri. The offer is there, no expiry or use-by date. And no pressure.’

‘Thank you.’ Her face was sombre.

He tightened his arms around her in a quick hug. ‘In the meantime, I have more news,’ he said dragging up the first change of subject that occurred to him. ‘Ah, make that I have lots of news since I haven’t told you what led up to it. Allie and I have been talking about staying in Port Cavill. We’ll be house-hunting at the weekend. We want you to come.’

‘You’re staying? And you’ve talked to Allie about it?’

‘Yes and yes. Um, I’ve been meaning to tell you,’ he teased gently. ‘But when I’m with you, I get sidetracked with other things.’

‘Luke, that’s wonderful.’

‘I thought so.’ He grinned at her. ‘So how about it? Will you come with us? You’ll know about workable room layouts and Allie tells me you have better decorating ideas than I do-you know, colours and that sort of thing.’ He dragged out his best hopeless male look.

‘I-I think I could manage that.’ A relieved smile lifted the exhausted lines on her face.

His heart swelled with love. More than anything, he wished he could take away her sorrow and self-doubt. All he could do was wait, be there for support and encouragement.

And hope that when it was all over, he had a place in her life, her future.

Her heart.