No. He wanted nothing to do with Ian’s child.
His own son was dead. His daughter was about to be married to the man of her dreams and he might even be free of another responsibility.
All his life he’d accepted the responsibility the Lockharts had carved for themselves through generations of ownership. Every spare cent he’d earned had been ploughed back into this hospital. He’d worked so hard...
But now... In the next couple of days Max would meet the man who’d funded a world’s best tropical diseases research facility and tropical resort on Wildfire. Ian had conned a Middle Eastern oil billionaire—a sheikh, no less—into purchasing island land for the resort, but the sale had been built on forged signatures and falsehoods. Island land was held in a Lockhart family trust for perpetuity and Ian had had no power to sell. Amazingly, though, once he’d known the facts, the sheikh had still been prepared to invest, leasing instead of buying. He had seemingly limitless money and resources. He was giving work to the islanders, giving hope, and for the first time since that night before his wedding, twenty-six years ago, Max was feeling a taste of freedom.
Maybe he could walk away from here and never come back.
This little boy is yours. Hettie’s words, Keanu’s words meant nothing. They couldn’t. He did not want any more responsibility.
But finally Hettie was answering his question. ‘I want to adopt because I can,’ she said. It was as if she’d needed time to work out her answer, but now she had it clear. ‘I’ve spent my life looking out for no one but myself. Sitting out on the atoll this morning, holding Joni, knowing Sefina was dead, it crowded in on me. I give nothing. I love...nothing. If I can have Joni... I will love him, Keanu. I promise.’
‘But it won’t be up to me,’ Keanu told her, giving her a searching look. ‘We’ll report Sefina’s death to the authorities and see what happens.’
‘I won’t let him leave the island.’
‘Het, the islanders won’t accept him,’ Keanu said gently. ‘He’s Ian’s child and Ian robbed them blind.’
‘He’ll be my child.’
‘Let’s see what the authorities say.’ Keanu fastened a last dressing on Max’s legs. ‘There you go, Dr Lockhart. All better. You’re free to go.’
Free to go...
It sounded okay to him, Max thought, swinging his legs gingerly from the examination table. Hettie held his arm while he stood, and he had the sense to let her. Lying supine during medical procedures could make anyone dizzy.
And dizziness did come, just a little, but it was enough for him to be grateful for Hettie’s support.
She was small and slight. She’d been through an appalling experience, too, and yet he could feel her strength. She was some woman. How many women would have backed up such a morning with heading into work; with continuing to keep going?
With offering to adopt a child?
‘Are you okay?’ Hettie asked, sounding worried.
She was worried about him?
‘I’m fine. Just a bit wobbly.’
‘Take your time,’ Keanu told him. ‘We’ll find you a bed in the ward.’
‘If you can find me some clothes I’ll head up to the house.’ His clothes were either in the water or on board the boat. And where was his boat?
‘You need someone to keep an eye on you,’ Hettie said. ‘With those legs, you need care. I’m not sure where Caroline is...’
And, as if on cue, the doors to the theatre swung open. Caroline burst through the doors, looking frantic.
‘Dad,’ she said as she saw him. ‘Oh, Dad...’ And she flung herself into his arms and burst into tears.
Hettie stepped back.
‘You’ll be okay now,’ she said softly. ‘You’re with your family.’
And she walked out and left him with his daughter.
* * *
Keanu was waiting as Hettie finished her interview with the local constabulary. He’d protested as she’d donned her nurse’s uniform instead of civvies the moment she’d reached the hospital. Now, though, with Max settled with his daughter and Joni asleep, there seemed no reason for her to stay. The hospital on Wildfire had settled to a new norm. Without Sefina.
Hettie could hardly think of Sefina without wanting to be sick. Of all the senseless deaths...
‘There’s nothing more you can do, Het,’ Keanu told her as the policeman left. The young doctor was starting to sound stern. ‘You’ve had an appalling shock. For you and Max to save Joni was little short of miraculous. You need to give your body time to recover. Take Bugsy home with you and sleep.’
‘How can I sleep? Keanu, we failed her.’
‘The island failed her,’ he said. ‘The islanders hated Ian Lockhart, and Sefina was someone they could vent that anger on.’
‘It wasn’t her fault.’
‘We all know that. Even the islanders know that. It was only her husband who was overtly cruel and he’ll be prosecuted. Now you need to take care of you.’
‘I’ll stay with Joni.’
‘Not on my watch, Het,’ he said, even more firmly. ‘Joni’s a problem we need to solve but not now, not when you’re emotionally distraught. If I let you stay with him all the time it’ll tear your heart out when he leaves. I don’t know where your offer of adoption came from, but it’s crazy. You know it is. You haven’t had time yet even to absorb the enormity of Sefina’s death. So let’s be professional. We’re taking care of him. Go home.’
‘I don’t want to.’
‘I’ll give you something to help you sleep,’ he said, as if he hadn’t heard her objection, and he took her shoulders and propelled her to the nurses’ station. ‘But you’re signing off now and that’s an order.’
* * *
It was all very well, following orders, but Hettie needed to work. She was exhausted but work seemed the only way to get the events of the morning out of her head.
She couldn’t—but neither could she get rid of this certainty of what she had to do.
She’d tried hard not to get emotionally involved with her patients. Why did she suddenly, fiercely, want to adopt Joni?
Why did she need to adopt Joni?
She walked slowly around the lagoon, in no hurry to get to her neat little villa overlooking the water. The island was lush, beautiful, washed with rain. Most of the storm damage had been cleared. A few palms had fallen but tropical rain forest regenerated fast. Soon there’d be nary a scar.
Except Sefina was dead.
Maybe
