need to admit her to hospital,’ Jack said, glancing up as the paediatrician walked into the room. ‘This is Dr Armstrong, the paediatric registrar. He’s going to take a look at her now and then we’ll take her along to the ward.’
‘Will I be able to stay with her?’
‘Absolutely.’ Jack nodded, his gaze reassuring. ‘You can have a bed next to her cot.’
Deciding that Jack was never going to be able to extricate himself from the mother, Bryony briefed Dr Armstrong on the baby’s condition.
She liked David Armstrong. He was warm and kind and he’d asked her out on several occasions.
And she’d refused of course. Because she always refused.
She never went on dates.
Bryony bit her lip, remembering Lizzie’s letter to Santa. She wanted a daddy for Christmas. A pretty tall order for a woman who didn’t date men, she thought dryly, picking up the baby’s charts and handing them to David.
Dragging her mind back, she finished handing over and watched while David examined the baby himself.
A thoroughly nice man, she decided wistfully. So why couldn’t she just accept his invitation to take their friendship a step further?
And then Jack strolled back to the trolley, tall, broad-shouldered, confident and so shockingly handsome that it made her gasp, and she remembered the reason why she didn’t date men.
She didn’t date men because she’d been in love with Jack since she’d been five years old. And apart from her one disastrous attempt to forget about him, which had resulted in Lizzie, she hadn’t even noticed another man for her entire adult life.
Which just went to show how stupid she was, she reflected crossly, infuriated by her own stupidity.
Jack might be a brilliant doctor but he was also the most totally unsuitable man any woman could fall for. Women had affairs with Jack. They didn’t fall in love with him. Not if they had any sense, because Jack had no intention of ever falling in love or settling down.
But, of course, she didn’t have any sense.
It was fortunate that she’d got used to hiding the way she felt about him. He didn’t have a clue that he’d featured in every daydream she’d had since she’d been a child. When other little girls had dreamed about faceless princes in fairy-tales, she’d dreamed about Jack. When her teenage friends had developed crushes on the boys at school, she’d still dreamed about Jack. And when she’d finally matured into a woman, she’d carried on dreaming about Jack.
Finally the baby was stable enough to be transferred to the ward and Nicky pushed the trolley, accompanied by the paediatric SHO, who had arrived to help, and the baby’s mother.
Bryony started to tidy up Resus, ready for the next arrival, her mind elsewhere.
‘Are you all right?’ David Armstrong gave her a curious look. ‘You’re miles away.’
‘Sorry.’ She smiled. ‘Just thinking.’
‘Hard work, that, for a blonde,’ Jack said mildly, and Bryony gave him a sunny smile, relaxed now that the baby was no longer her responsibility.
‘Why are men like bank accounts?’ she asked sweetly, ditching some papers in the bin. ‘Because without a lot of money they don’t generate much interest.’
David looked startled but Jack threw back his head and laughed.
‘Then it’s fortunate for me that I have a lot of money,’ he said strolling across the room to her and looping her stethoscope back round her neck.
For a moment he stood there, looking down at her, his eyes laughing into hers as he kept hold of the ends of the stethoscope. Bryony looked back at him, hypnotised by the dark shadow visible on his hard jaw and the tiny muscle that worked in his cheek. He was so close she could almost touch him, but she’d never been allowed to do that.
Not properly.
He was her best friend.
They talked, they laughed and they spent huge amounts of time together. But they never crossed that line of friendship.
Jack’s pager sounded and he let go of the stethoscope and reached into his pocket. ‘Duty calls. If you’re sure you can cope without me, I’ll be off.’
‘I’ll struggle on,’ Bryony said sarcastically, and he gave her that lazy wink that always reduced her legs to jelly.
‘You do that. I’ll see you later, then. Are you joining the team at the Drunken Fox tonight?’
‘Yes. Mum’s babysitting.’
The whole of the local mountain rescue team were meeting for a drink to celebrate her brother’s birthday.
‘Good.’ He gave a nod. ‘See you there, then.’
And with that he strolled out of the room with his usual easy confidence, letting the door swing closed behind him.
David stared after him. ‘Don’t you mind the blonde jokes and the fact that he calls you Blondie?’
Bryony shot him an amused look. ‘He’s called me that for twenty-two years.’ She fiddled with the stethoscope that Jack had looped round her neck. ‘He’s just teasing.’
‘You’ve known him for twenty-two years?’
‘Amazing that I’m still sane, isn’t it?’ Bryony said lightly. ‘Jack was at school with my two brothers but he spent more time in our house than his own.’ Mainly because his parents had been going through a particularly acrimonious divorce.
‘He’s practically family. He and my brothers were at medical school together.’
Nicky entered the room in time to hear that last remark. ‘I bet the three of them were lethal.’
‘They certainly were.’
David looked at her in surprise. ‘Of course—why didn’t I realise before? Tom Hunter, the consultant obstetrician—he’s your brother?’
Bryony smiled. ‘That’s right. And my other brother, Oliver, is a GP. When I’ve finished my rotation I’m going to join him in his practice. He’s the reason for the trip to the pub—it’s his birthday today.’
Not that they needed an excuse for a trip to the pub. Most of the mountain rescue team members lived in the pub when they weren’t working, training or on a callout.
David looked at her. ‘I can’t believe that I didn’t click sooner that Tom Hunter is your brother.’
Bryony shrugged. ‘Well, we don’t know each other that well.’
‘And whose fault is that?’ David said in an undertone. ‘I keep asking you out.’
And she kept refusing.
Conscious
