back now? After so long?’
Sally gave a wistful smile. ‘I suppose I’d been thinking about it for a while and then I had your letter telling me that you’d finally married Jack and that Oliver had met someone.’ She broke off, remembering how she’d felt when she’d read everything that had been happening at home. ‘I suddenly realized how much I was missing my old friends. You are the nearest I have to family. I realized that it was time to come back.’
‘He doesn’t know, Sal.’ Bryony’s voice was quiet and Sally nodded.
That was exactly the way she’d planned it. If she was going to be able to hold herself together for that first, agonizing meeting, then she needed to be in a position of control.
‘Thank you for not telling him.’
‘Did you think I would?’
Sally shrugged, her expression guarded as she studied her childhood friend. ‘He’s your brother.’
‘And you’re my best friend.’ Bryony gave a twisted smile. ‘Or at least you were my best friend until Tom broke your heart and you vanished halfway round the world.’
‘Friendships needn’t be compromised by distance.’
Bryony bit her lip. ‘I thought perhaps—’ She shrugged her shoulders, showing how helpless she felt. ‘I’m his sister, after all.’
Sally stirred. ‘And you and I were best friends before he and I were lovers.’
‘How will you—?’ Bryony broke off and licked her lips. ‘You’re going to be working with him, Sally. Won’t it be difficult for you?’
‘No.’ Sally lifted her chin, applying the rigid self-discipline that she’d cultivated over the past seven years. ‘It won’t be difficult.’
Tom Hunter was part of her past. She’d learned to live without him. His rejection had hurt her so badly that for a while she’d thought she’d never recover. But she’d put all that behind her. She’d built a new life, pushed herself to the limits in a fevered determination never to give herself time to stand still and contemplate. And in the process she’d enjoyed experiences that to most people were just a dream. And developed a self-confidence that had given her the courage to come home.
‘I can’t believe you applied for a job in his department.’
Sally gave a casual shrug. ‘I’m a midwife, Bry, and this is a small community. How many departments are there?’
And it was part of the test she’d set herself. To see how far she’d come in seven years.
‘You could have gone to a different town.’
‘No. This is my home,’ Sally said softly, her eyes fixed on the mountains with almost naked longing. ‘And I’ve stayed away long enough.’
And she’d pined for long enough.
Finally she’d picked up the pieces, stuck them back together and made herself whole again.
She was ready to face the world.
And she was ready to face Tom Hunter.
‘SALLY JENNER! I am so pleased to finally meet you.’ Emma’s smile was warm with welcome. ‘I’ve heard such good things about you and we badly need an extra midwife. You are going to be everyone’s most popular person.’
‘Thanks. It’s good to be here.’ Sally smiled at the labour ward sister, but nothing could subdue the nervous fluttering in her stomach. The nerves had been there from the moment she’d made the decision to leave Australia and return home.
From the moment she’d known she would be seeing Tom Hunter again.
She’d prepared herself for this moment for seven years.
But now it was here she was suddenly terrified that she’d let herself down. Reveal something that she didn’t want to reveal.
Feel something that she didn’t want to feel.
What would he look like now? Had her memory exaggerated his masculine appeal? Could any man truly be the god she’d believed him to be?
‘Anything you want to know, just ask me,’ Emma said cheerfully, oblivious to Sally’s anxiety. ‘I know you trained in this hospital, but you’ve been away a while and some things might have changed so I’ll give you a quick tour. We have two operating theatres, six traditional delivery rooms and four “home” rooms, as we call them. In other words, they’re supposed to make people feel that they’re actually in their own bedrooms.’
Sally laughed. ‘You don’t sound very convinced.’
‘Well, my bedroom is buried under a ton of unwashed laundry and books that I intend to read at some point and haven’t got round to yet,’ Emma confessed cheerfully, ‘so the rooms certainly don’t look like my home. But I can dream.’
She pushed open a door and Sally followed her inside.
The room had a large double bed and a sofa covered in pretty scatter cushions. There were also magazines and a music system.
Sally gave a nod. ‘Nice. Cosy.’
Emma shrugged. ‘Well, it’s a compromise between giving birth at home and in hospital. Now, come and see the birthing pool.’
They left the room and Emma opened another door and flicked on some lights. ‘We have two, but the other one is in use at the moment.’
Sally walked into the room and looked at the pool. ‘You do a lot of water births?’ She knew that some of her medical colleagues had questioned the safety of water births. ‘The consultants are comfortable with that?’
Emma gave a wry smile. ‘Not all of them. The three older ones much prefer to just whip a woman into Theatre or yank the baby out with forceps the moment her labour starts to take longer than the books say it should. But attitudes are changing as younger consultants join the team.’ She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. ‘I ought to warn you that if you’re ever planning on having a baby here, Tom Hunter is your man. He’s young but he’s brilliant. He has amazingly good instincts and nerves of steel. Unlike some I could mention, he isn’t frightened into C-sectioning everyone.’ Her tone was warm. ‘He thinks that a woman should be allowed to deliver by herself whenever possible and he does his best to let that happen.’
Sally slid a hand over the edge of the birthing pool, careful to hide her expression.
The knowledge that Tom was regarded as some sort of hero in the delivery suite clashed violently with her own negative attitude to the man.
She didn’t want to admire him. It would
