his soul as she sought answers.
He blinked and looked away, not sure what had just passed between them and not willing to pursue the thought. This was fanciful imagining and unlike him.
He fought against a sudden stirring of emotion he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for many years. Especially when he looked down at her fingers as they disappeared inside his bigger hand. He wondered why she had decided not to wear her wedding ring.
Something had shifted, something that shouldn’t have shifted with this woman who was related by law, and who was the last woman he wanted to be attracted to. There was nothing he could do about that now except ignore any such emotion and help her as much as he could.
Stewart glanced across at his mother, sitting patiently against the wall as she knitted. She had the glazed look of sudden tiredness she seemed to feel more often. He’d been a fool to bring her but she’d so wanted to be here when Desiree woke up.
He never knew when Leanore would lapse into one of those turns that kept her in bed for days and she deserved to at least meet her daughter-in-law.
There were so many ways his mind wanted to go but he could only do one thing at a time. ‘We’ll go now, Mother.’
Leanore blinked and looked at him brightly, and he knew she had lost her space in time for the moment. ‘Where will we go?’
‘Home, darling. Desiree is tired.’
Leanore creased her brow. ‘Desiree who?’
Stewart sighed and squeezed his mother’s shoulder gently. ‘We’ll leave Desiree to rest for a while and see Children’s Ward about bringing your granddaughter up here after she wakes up.’ He saw the moment her memory returned and he smiled as his mother nodded.
He looked at Desiree, her eyes now drooping with fatigue. ‘Sleep now. We’ll bring Sophie to you later this afternoon. After tea I’ll take you to the neonatal intensive care, or NICU as they call it, to see your new daughter, if it is all right with your doctor.’
Desiree nodded tiredly but there was one thing she had to do. ‘Before you leave, would you pass the backpack, please?’
‘We’ll see you later, Desiree.’ Stewart laid the backpack gently in her lap and then turned his mother’s wheelchair towards the door.
‘Later,’ he said, and she closed her eyes as they left the room.
Desiree’s head ached quietly but the pain was overshadowed by the enormity of losing who she was and what was in her past.
Lost memories of a twelve-month-old baby and dead husband and now the reality that she risked losing a baby she only fuzzily remembered being pregnant with. It was all too much.
It was a nightmare and surely she would wake up soon.
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