the tremble that spoke of her tension.
‘Dad said they were sending her for an ultrasound of the abdominal area.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘There’s a small imaging facility in Milberry that does that sort of thing and they were opening it up for her. I guess the place must close at five. That would have meant another ambulance trip, though a short one.
‘Dad wanted to go with them but the nursing staff said no. I suppose they needed to focus on finding out what … what needed to be done after the tests.’ Her breath hitched as she ended this speech.
Rick squeezed her hand, drew it onto his thigh and curled his fingers over hers. ‘There are lots of things that can cause pain that are not life-threatening. If it was her appendix, for example, an operation should set it to rights.’
She nodded. ‘Maybe that’s what it is.’
‘How old is your mother? Has she enjoyed good health until now?’
‘She’s fifty. She never gets sick. Not like this. Neither of them do.’ Suddenly the fingers beneath his curled with tension. ‘What if …’
‘What if we ring the hospital and ask if there’s any news?’ He inserted the question gently.
Marissa tugged her bag from the floor by its strap. Her fingers were curled beneath Rick’s, against his strong thigh. She couldn’t seem to make herself let go or shift away. She didn’t want to leave the comfort of that press of warmth against her shoulder and arm.
Rick wasn’t Michael Unsworth. He wasn’t anything like her ex-fiancé. That knowledge was probably even more cause for worry, but right now she only had room to worry about Mum.
She lifted her phone. A moment later she had the hospital on the line.
‘It’s Marissa Warren. My mother …’ she cleared her throat ‘… my mother, Matilda Warren, arrived by ambulance with abdominal pain. I’d like to know how she is.’
‘Your mother is still under examination,’ the woman on the end of the line said briskly. ‘She’s had several tests done and Doctor is with her now. We’ll know more in a little while. Are you on your way to see her, dear? There might be more news if you leave it another half hour or so …’
‘We’re only about another hour away now.’ Rick murmured the words.
She glanced at him, realised she’d ended the call and simply sat there with the phone in her hand.
‘I’ve taken it for granted that they’re there, in good health …’ She trailed off.
‘Then keep believing in that good health. And if she needs anything that I can arrange or help with, to be airlifted to a different hospital in a private helicopter or anything …’
‘I hope she won’t need that, but I appreciate your words.’ She swallowed hard and her fingers flexed beneath his as she registered just how much his concern meant to her.
She couldn’t think about that now, couldn’t see his actions as a sign of his ability to care, or commit. ‘We’ll lose phone reception for a while about half an hour out of Milberry. I may not get to hear the test results until we’re close to town.’ Her gaze tracked over him despite herself. ‘There’s an area that doesn’t pick up very well.’
‘You should make any other calls now before we lose reception.’
‘Yes, I’d better do that.’ How did Rick feel about holding her hand? Had he simply wanted to offer comfort? It felt somehow deeper than that, and he was so determined to help her, anything she might need …
He glanced her way. ‘Did you want to try your father again?’
‘No. Dad won’t have his phone on inside the hospital, but I’d like to send a message to one of my friends.’ She toyed with her phone. ‘Yes, I think Grace would be out of bed by now, or at least close to it.’
She’d also arranged a drink after work with a man from the dating site. Marissa looked up his number in her phone listings—just as well she’d put it in there—and sent a quick message explaining her situation. Doing that made her aware, finally, of how close she was pressed to Rick’s side, how much she’d been leaning on him, physically and emotionally.
‘I’m sorry. I’m not usually so … needy.’ She moved away to the passenger seat.
‘You weren’t.’ He cast a glance at her that revealed warmth and caring in the depths of his eyes. ‘There’s nothing wrong with leaning on someone else sometimes.’
Marissa’s phone gave a number of beeps and she quickly glanced at it. ‘Two messages.’
She checked the first message. ‘This one’s from my friend Grace in London, well, an Internet friend, actually. She says, “Be strong, sweetie, and hugs and prayers for your mum. Grace xx.” Grace has a nineteen-year-old daughter and has lived a complete different life to me in so many ways, yet I feel a connection with her. Knowing her is kind of like having a fun older sister.’
‘What about the other message?’
She didn’t really want to tell him about the man she’d planned to meet for a drink. Why had she bothered anyway? The thought rolled over her, and she did her best to push it away. Right now wasn’t the time to try to figure out whether she was wasting her time on the dating site, whether her reasons for joining were even right …
Marissa opened the message reluctantly, and then relaxed. ‘This is from another of my Internet friends, Dani. Grace must have forwarded my message to her. I didn’t want to wake Dani.’ She read the second message out. ‘“Sending prayers. Call me if you need 2. Any time!!!’”
‘Where does Dani live? Is she an older woman like Grace?’
‘San Francisco, and no. She’s younger than I am and more ambitious in certain ways. Well, perhaps not more ambitious, but highly focused in her working life particularly, I think. Dani is at the start of her career and she’s studied hard and really wants to have a great job. At the moment she’s working in some dead end position she doesn’t like to talk about and hoping something better will come along.’
‘Do you have sisters or brothers, Marissa?’
He’d probably asked to keep her mind occupied. Marissa wanted to open up to him anyway. As she recognised that, she stared out of the window at the scenery flashing by.
Grassy paddocks on either side of the road interspersed with native gum and paper-bark trees. Hills undulated as far as the eye could see and gave a sense of quiet and open space very different from the teeming life of the city.
They weren’t too far from Milberry now. What would he think of her home town?
‘No sisters or brothers. I’m an only child. Maybe that’s why I want …’ She broke off, cleared her throat. ‘Mum and Dad only ever had me, but Mum made sure I had lots of chances to play with other children, to get the social interaction I needed. What about you? Just the two sisters?’
‘Yes. I’m the eldest. Darla’s in the middle, and Faith is the youngest.’
And his sisters had married, made families,
