him. Friends only. Not so close they shared everything. ‘You don’t want to stay in town without Rosie, do you?’
Emma stared at him, blinking twice and swallowing hard. ‘No.’ Another swallow. ‘I need to hug and touch her, or just watch over her. I need to be a mum tonight.’ Sadness flicked through her eyes and was gone.
It was hard not to reach for her hands, wrap his fingers around them and give her his warmth and strength. He all but sat on his hands in case Emma misinterpreted the gesture. ‘You are allowed to be shaken up by it all, you know? No one’s going to give you a hard time for feeling down about not having this time with Grace.’
Her left foot jiggled continuously as she nodded slowly. ‘I get that. But knowing that and experiencing it are different. I’m not saying I’d change a thing. Of course I wouldn’t. That baby’s always been Abbie’s. I don’t even want another child. I’ve got the most adorable daughter and no time or energy to spare for bringing up a second child.’ She stared out of the window.
She was an awesome mum, the kind he’d want for his children. If he was ever to have a family. He’d love his own kids, sometimes imagined holding his daughter, playing ball in the yard with his son, pouring into them all the love he knew he held inside. After he found the right woman and loved her to the edge and back—but that wasn’t happening. He was a screw-up, had loved his family too hard and deep so that the loss had cut the ground out from under him, left him unable to understand who he was any more. Left him afraid to love without reservation. Hence flings were the way to go. Fun, carefree and over before the trouble started.
Nixon’s heart pushed the barriers back in place that Emma didn’t know she’d shunted sideways. What was he thinking here? Get back on track. Concentrate on Emma and what she wanted. ‘Rosie’s a lucky girl with a great mum. What more does she need?’ Nixon felt that protective surge for Emma stir, the one that came to the fore at inopportune moments. It sat up and expanded into...? What? The need to look out for her shouldn’t cause this sense of leaning too far out over a cliff, of hovering on the point of no return.
Leave. Now. Go home and grab the bike, put in a couple of hours’ hard pedalling. Break out a sweat, make the muscles ache, and silence the infuriating brain.
His legs weren’t behaving; they were suddenly lifeless, keeping him stuck on the chair. As though they were saying Emma needed his strength at the moment and he couldn’t take it away, no matter the cost to him. Whatever the hell that cost might be. Just some strange, gut-tightening, emotion-expanding thing going on in his head, his body. His heart. His heart? Get away.
‘She’s unlucky not to have a dad.’ She blinked at him. ‘Forget I said that.’
Slap. Rosie’s father. Nixon slowly leaned back in the uncomfortable chair. Did she still love the guy? ‘How long were you married?’
‘Nearly three years.’ No emotion coloured her voice, or her gaze. None at all. Hiding her feelings?
Talk about derailing the conversation off post-birthing blues. Only problem was, he seemed to have hit as big a bump in the road. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.’
‘Why shouldn’t you? It’s no secret.’ Was that anger firing up in her eyes? ‘Broken marriages are as common as muck.’
‘I suppose.’
‘Alvin saved me the hassle of a divorce by getting himself killed in a pub brawl up north in Kaikohe.’ Emma’s mouth was tight.
‘Jeez, Emma, you’ve had a rough time of it.’
‘You have no idea.’
‘Yet look what you’ve done for Abbie. You’re tough, and kind, and full of love.’ That love word was cropping up a lot today. Best find another subject to talk about. For both their sakes. ‘Your mother coming back to get you or do you want me to drive you out to Gibbston Valley?’
She blinked, shuddered. Then finally dredged up a weak smile. ‘Would you?’ Relief began lightening those teal eyes, nudging aside the gloom that had overtaken her minutes ago. ‘If Mum comes she’ll bring Rosie and my girl has had more than enough excitement for all of us.’
An odd happiness filled him. Because she was accepting a ride with him? Pathetic. ‘Are you allowed to go yet?’
‘It’s entirely up to me. The midwife has done her final checks for the day and says she’ll see me tomorrow, so any time that suits you. I’ll have a quick shower and change into something half decent.’ She began easing off the bed, obviously feeling every movement.
Nixon stood up, rolled his shoulders. ‘I’ll go see how that cyclist’s doing. He should be out of surgery by now. Back in ten?’
‘Sure.’ She was already digging into her daypack for clothes.
Nixon found his patient’s orthopaedic surgeon writing up notes on the operation he’d just performed. ‘How’s our guy?’
‘That shoulder is nasty, and he’s in for a long haul getting back to—’ Cameron flicked his fingers in the air ‘—normal. The skull fracture’s of concern, though we’re fairly certain there’s no lasting brain injury. I’ll operate again tomorrow to insert rods in his leg and arm. He won’t be a happy chap when he comes round.’
‘He’s lucky to be alive. That was some fall.’
Cameron stretched in his chair and linked his hands behind his head. ‘You cyclists certainly keep me busy. Shoulders are my expertise these days. You still as crazy on your bike as you were when you first arrived in town?’
Nixon grinned. ‘What’s crazy about racing down a mountain on two wheels? It’s an adrenalin fix like no other.’ He loved it, needed it at times. Used it to pretend all was right in his world.
‘Could also be the end of you, is what else it is,’ Cameron retorted. ‘Your family ever worry about you?’
There was another question behind the obvious one. ‘They’re long used to me doing hair-raising sports.’ His cousins had more than enough to focus on with their families and jobs without worrying about him.
‘You ever think you should slow down?’
‘Yeah, but then I get on the bike and that idea goes out the window.’ If the worst happened then he wasn’t hurting anyone else, because there was no one close enough to be affected if he didn’t come home one day as his family hadn’t. His cousins would miss him, as would Henry, but not in a life-stopping, future-changing way. He’d chosen to live like this. If he couldn’t have love then he’d have adventure.
‘You’re mad.’ Cameron was studying him far too closely. ‘Find another fix, something less dangerous. Collect stamps or play bowls. Or...’ and the guy drew a breath, warning Nixon he wasn’t going to like this next pearl of wisdom ‘...a woman. As in a woman you go home to every night. They can be as addictive as anything else out there.’
‘Bikes are cheaper to run,’ he flipped back.
‘You don’t mean that.’
Did the guy ever give up? Nixon put some grit in his voice. ‘You’re right, I don’t. What I meant is I’m not getting involved with anyone. End of.’ He headed for the door. Time to collect Emma, whether she was ready or not.
