after he’d worked so hard to turn things around between them. Didn’t want to lose those rare smiles in the process. So yes. He would do his damnedest to get to the hospital on time.
And between now and then he’d have to figure out what to do about his brother. Threaten him with another stint in rehab? Take away his car keys?
He cast his eyes up to the ceiling, trying not to blame Melody for allowing his brother to twine his life so completely around hers that he had trouble functioning now that she was gone.
Lucas never wanted to be in a position like that. And so far he hadn’t. He’d played the field far and wide, but he still lived by two hard and fast rules: no married women and no long-term relationships. As long as he could untangle himself with ease the next day, he was happy. And he stuck to women who felt the same way. No hurt feelings. And definitely no burning need to hang around and buy a house with a garden.
Finishing up the veggies, he faintly caught the sound of the shower switching on, the poof from the on-demand water heater confirming his thoughts. Good. At least Felix was doing something productive. He opened the refrigerator, pulled out the ale in the door and popped the top on every single bottle. Then he took a long gulp of the one in his hand, before proceeding to pour the rest of the contents down the drain, doing the same with every other bottle and then placing the lot in the recycle bin. If the beer wasn’t here, Felix couldn’t drink it, right?
Not that that stopped him from going out to the nearest pub, but at least that took some effort, which he hoped Felix didn’t have in him tonight.
Lucas went outside and loaded the prawns into a cooking basket and set it over the fire, then arranged the vegetables next to them on the grate. Cora’s empty glass of lemonade was next to his full one. She was still sprawled on the hammock and it looked like both she and Pete were out for the count. If only he could brush off his cares that easily, he might actually get a full night’s sleep.
But maybe tonight would be different. He’d learned from experience that the fold-out cot in the spare room was supremely uncomfortable. He was better off just throwing a quilt over Melody’s prized couch and settling in for the night there.
And he would wake up on time. He absolutely would.
And he’d arrive at work chipper and ready to face the day.
He hoped.
Something was wrong with Lucas.
He’d come through the doors of the MMU with a frown that could have swallowed most of Melbourne. She’d arrived at work armed with a smile, only to have him look right past her as if she didn’t exist.
Ha! Evidently she’d been wrong about his reaction. Because there was nothing remotely resembling attraction in the man’s eyes today. In fact, his whole frame oozed exhaustion, as did the two nicks on the left side of his strong jaw. He’d muttered something that might have been “G’day.” Or it might just as easily have been “Go to hell.”
She was tempted to chase him down and ask about his evening, but when she turned to do so, she noticed that the back of his shirt was wrinkled as if he’d…Her gaze skimmed down and caught the same dark jeans he’d worn yesterday.
Her stomach rolled to the side. The staff all had lockers, and the last time he’d come in like this he’d used the hospital’s shower and changed into clean clothes. That’s probably what he was headed to do right now.
The evidence pointed to one thing. That he’d spent the night with “Cora” or some other woman.
The trickle of attraction froze in her veins.
None of your business, Darcie.
Just leave the man alone. If she made an issue of this, they would be back where they’d started: fighting a cold war that neither one of them would win.
But why the hell couldn’t he drag himself out of his lover’s bed in time to go home and shower before coming to work?
Unless he just couldn’t manage to tear himself away from her.
An image emerged from the haze that she did her best to block. Too late. There it was, and there was no way to send it back again—the one of Lucas swinging his feet over the side of the mattress, only to have some faceless woman graze long, ruby fingernails down his arm and whisper something that made him change his mind.
She shook her head to remove the picture and forced herself to get back to work.
Just as she did so she spied one of her patients leaning against the wall, her hands gripping her swollen belly. Margie Terrington, an English transplant like herself, had just come in yesterday for a quick check to make sure things were on track. They had been.
At least until now. From the concentration on her face and the grey cast to her skin, something wasn’t right. Darcie glanced around for a nurse, but they were still tending to the morning’s patients. Darcie hurried over.
“Margie? Are you all right?”
Her eyes came up. “My stomach. It’s cramping. I think it’s the baby.”
“Let’s get you into a room.”
Alarm filled her. No time to check her in or do any of the preliminaries. This was the young woman’s second pregnancy. She’d miscarried her first a little over a year ago, and she was only seven months along with this one. Too soon. The human body didn’t just go into labor this early unless there was a problem.
Her apprehension grew, and she sent up a quick prayer.
Propping her shoulder beneath Margie’s arm, they headed to the nearest exam room. One of the nurses came out of a room across the hall, and Darcie called out to her. “Tessa, could you come here?”
The nurse hurried over and got on the other side of their patient.
“Once I get her settled, can you see if you can find Lucas? He arrived a few minutes ago, so he might be in the lounge or the locker area. Let him know I might need his help.”
“Of course.”
The patient was sweating profusely—Darcie could feel the moisture through the woman’s light maternity top. Another strike against her. If she had some kind of systemic infection, could it have crossed the placenta and affected the baby? A thousand possibilities ran through her mind.
Pushing into the exam area, the trio paused when Margie groaned and doubled over even more. “Oh, God. Hurts.”
“Do they feel like contractions? Are they regular?” They finally got her to the bed and helped her up on it.
“I don’t know.”
Tessa scurried around, getting her vitals, while Darcie tried to get some more information. What she learned wasn’t good. Margie had got up and showered like normal and had felt fine. Forty minutes later she’d got a painful cramp in her side—like the kind you got while running, she’d said. The pain had grown worse and had spread in a band across her abdomen. Now she was feeling nauseous, whether from the pain or something else, she wasn’t sure. “And my joints hurt, as if I’m getting the flu.”
Could she be?
As
