Kate continued to talk, while Charles sat beside her, watching the screen for any kind of response from his nephew.
Nothing—well, not nothing, but the changes were all negative. They were looking on while a healthy young man died for no apparent reason.
Hamish stood outside the room, watching through the window, seeing the urgency in Kate’s pose as she bent over the bed, trying to force a reaction of any kind from Jack.
Apparently deciding there was nothing he could do, Charles left the room, wheeling to a stop beside Hamish so he, too, could watch through the window.
‘I tried to phone his mother, but got an answering-machine. Philip thinks she might be skiing in New Zealand. Even if we ask the police over there to track the family down, it could be days before she gets here.’
The anguish in Charles’s voice told Hamish far more than the words. The man was blaming himself for insisting the lad stayed here in Crocodile Creek.
‘You did all you could,’ Hamish assured him. ‘His whole blood clotting time was within acceptable limits, we had the desmopressin on hand for Lucky, so you were able to infuse that into him before the op. They couldn’t have done any more in a major city hospital, and shifting him again might have provoked this problem earlier.’
But Charles refused to be comforted.
‘I shouldn’t have assumed my way was the best way,’ he said bitterly. ‘Damn it all, Hamish. There’s far too much bad blood in this family already, without me having more of it on my hands.’
‘You’ve already done what you can to get Jim and Honey Cooper back on their feet and to end the feud between the Coopers and the Wetherbys,’ he reminded Charles.
‘Sure!’ Charles growled. ‘I patch things up just fine then let the father of their grandchild die. It’ll start all over again!’
‘Not if Kate has any say in it,’ Hamish said, nodding to where Kate was ordering the young man to live.
Standing helplessly beside the bed, her gaze snapping from Jack to the monitor and back again, Kate thought about the story Hamish had told her. A family feud that had torn this modern-day Romeo from his Juliet.
His Juliet! His girlfriend! The baby! She swung around to see Hamish talking to Charles outside the window.
Leaving Jack’s side, she headed out the door.
‘Megan? Where’s Megan? Is she still in the hospital? Or in town? Can we get her here? She’s the one person to whom he might respond.’
Hamish, who’d heard Jack’s insistence that Megan was the only girl for him, caught on fastest.
‘She’s living at Christina’s house. I’ll go there now.’
But Charles held him back.
‘You think he cares about her? According to Jim, he hasn’t seen her for six months.’
‘He cares,’ Hamish said, and Charles nodded.
‘Then go and get her. I’ll handle Jim.’
Satisfied she’d done what she could, Kate returned to Jack’s side, and continued urging a response from him, but through the window she saw Charles wheel away—to tell Jim Cooper his daughter’s boyfriend was now in the hospital?
Would Megan come? Kate was frustrated that she didn’t know more about the dynamics of the relationship between Megan and Jack. There was a baby—but did Megan care about its father?
The question was answered very soon afterwards when a plump young woman came racing into the ICU, Hamish hurrying rather ineffectually behind her.
‘Where is he? Where’s Jack?’ she demanded.
Emily came out from behind the monitor to intercept her.
‘Hush, Megan,’ she said quietly. ‘Calm down, love. You’re not long out of here yourself.’
But Megan was beyond stopping. With one swift glance around the sterile space, she found which room held the man she sought and, stepping around Emily, headed straight for it.
But was it love or anger driving her? Kate had no idea, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. She intercepted Megan as the excited young woman burst through the door.
‘He’s very sick. Don’t shock him,’ she warned, then put her arms around the newcomer as Megan’s face crumpled and she let out an anguished cry.
‘I wouldn’t hurt him,’ she whispered. ‘I love him!’
The plaintive declaration speared pain deep into Kate’s heart, but she held her ground, talking quietly to Megan to calm her before she approached Jack’s bed.
‘Hamish said there was no reason for him to be so sick,’ Megan whimpered, allowing Kate to hold her while she stared at the pale, depleted figure on the bed.
‘No, it just seems as if he’s given up.’
‘He can’t do that. He’s got a baby,’ Megan protested. ‘He can’t die without knowing about Jackson.’
‘He won’t die,’ Kate promised—both fiercely and foolishly—then she led Megan close to the bed, took Jack’s hand and spoke to him again.
‘Hey, Jack, I’ve got a surprise for you. This will make you open your eyes.’
She put his hand into Megan’s and stepped back, while Megan collapsed into the chair beside the bed and brushed her lips across his hand. Tears spilled onto his skin and dampened the sheets, and Kate backed up against the wall and waited, knowing Megan needed to get her own emotions under control before she could speak to Jack.
‘Jack, I’m here, and I love you so much. Please, don’t leave me again. I tried so hard to believe I didn’t love you. I even told myself I could live without you, but seeing you again I know I can’t, so don’t leave me, Jack, don’t leave me again.’
Megan used his hand to wipe away fresh tears, and Kate found herself swallowing hard and hoping her eyes weren’t brimming too obviously.
‘I need you, Jack,’ Megan continued, her voice steady although she was trembling all over. ‘You have no idea how much I need you—especially now.’
She glanced up at Kate, despairing questions in her eyes. Was she talking too much? Was it doing any good?
And the big one—should she tell him about the baby?
Or maybe Kate imagined that one. She hoped so because she had no idea how a young man might respond to the unexpected news he was a father.
‘Keep talking, that’s all you can do,’ she said.
Megan obeyed, telling Jack she’d been here in hospital herself and though she’d been sick she’d kept thinking of him and that had kept her going.
‘We need each other, Jack,’ she said, imploring a response from
