The Midwife's Marriage Proposal (11 page)

‘He's down.' Sean lifted a hand in their direction. He listened on the radio and beckoned to Sally. ‘He needs another pair of hands and he says the ledge is narrow.'

‘I'll go,' Sally said immediately, standing still while Sean checked the knots in her rope.

Then she went over the edge into the darkness, feeling a sudden gust of wind threaten to take her.

Tom shone the torch so that she could see what she was doing, and she abseiled quickly but carefully down the steep face, thankful that the visibility was good.

She could see Tom resting one foot on a narrow ledge, holding onto the shivering figure of the other boy.

‘So this is Lester?'

‘Presumably.' Tom raised his voice to be heard above the wind. ‘I can't get him to speak or move. He just keeps shivering and clutching his side. I need to see if he's injured, but this rock isn't wide enough for me.'

‘But it's wide enough for me,' Sally said immediately, shifting her position and stepping gingerly onto the rock next to the boy.

‘Whatever you do, don't unclip your own rope,' Tom shouted grimly, and she looked at him.

‘Do I look stupid?'

To her surprise he grinned. ‘Actually, you look beautiful. A bit windblown maybe, but …' He shrugged and despite the seriousness of the situation she felt her heart warm.

Then she forced her attention back to the job in hand.

And the most important task was to get a rope onto Lester so that he was safe if something happened to his precarious perch.

‘Lester, I'm Sally. I need to slip this over you so that we can get you safely attached to a rope.'

His teeth were chattering. ‘I'm going to fall again.'

‘You're not going to fall, sweetheart,' Sally said firmly, manoeuvring herself on the rock again so that she could slide the harness onto him. After several abortive attempts she managed it and clipped on the rope. Tom gave a nod of approval.

‘Good job.' He spoke to Sean on the radio while Sally tried to work out how badly Lester had hurt himself.

‘The rocks must have broken your fall,' she said. ‘How did you land? Where does it hurt?'

The boy gave a gasp. ‘My side.'

Sally nodded. ‘Anywhere else?'

The boy shook his head and Tom moved closer so that he could take a look.

‘There's no bleeding that I can see,' he said finally, ‘but we need to get him off this ledge before things get worse.'

Sally gave a nod of understanding. The wind was rising, the temperature was dropping and nothing could be done for the boy in such an exposed and dangerous place.

‘We can raise him or lower him,' she said, and Tom nodded, his hand still on the radio. ‘Sean is sending down a stretcher.'

The radio crackled again and Tom spoke for a few seconds and then turned to Sally.

‘They've got a problem up top. Can you go back up straight away?'

She frowned. ‘Will you be all right here?'

His blue eyes mocked her. ‘Worried about me, Sally Jenner?'

She bit her lip. ‘No.'

‘You're lying.' Even with the wind howling she could hear the change in his tone. ‘And we're going to talk about it later.'

Sally cursed herself for revealing too much.

Knowing that she was going to pay for it later, she got on with the job.

Back on the ledge Ellie and Sean were huddled together, arguing about something.

‘What's happening?' Sally unclipped her rope and walked over to them.

‘James is refusing to go down, that's what's happening.' Sean ground his teeth in irritation and Ellie rolled her eyes.

‘Men. Just leave it to us girls, Sean, darling.' She turned to Sally, her expression serious. ‘Will you talk to him? He's really upset and muttering something about not belonging.' She reached out and put a hand on Sally's arm, her expression gentle. ‘I know that's your specialist subject, Sally.'

Sally gave a rueful smile and a nod. ‘It's nice to know that having a disastrous childhood can come in handy occasionally.'

‘Just tell the kid that we need to get him off this mountain,' Sean said grimly, concentrating his attention on the stretcher that the other members of the team were lowering. ‘By the time Tom gets his friend up here, I want him to move. Or I'll peel him off the ridge myself.'

Sally picked her way back along the exposed path to where the boy was still huddled, this time protected by several warm jackets.

‘Hello, James. My friend Ellie tells me you don't want to go down.'

He gave a huge sniff. ‘What's the point?'

‘Well, because a lot of people love you and a lot of people are very worried about you,' she said gently, watching his face carefully. She couldn't remember how old Sean had said he was but, whatever his age, at the moment he just looked like a very young, very vulnerable child.

Her heart twisted with sympathy. Behind her she was aware of movement and activity as the rest of the team
worked to lift the injured boy clear of the rock, but all her attention was fixed on James.

‘Why would they want me?' His voice cracked and his eyes closed. As if he didn't want her to see what he was feeling. ‘They told me today that I was adopted. They waited fourteen years to tell me and they told me today.'

Sally heard the agony in his voice and was silent for a moment. ‘That's pretty tough.'

‘Yeah.' James brushed his hand across his eyes and struggled for control. ‘And it explains a lot. Why I always felt different. They wanted stuff from me that I couldn't do. My dad is a big footballer and he's always saying, “Why can't you be more like me?” and things like that. Well, it's not surprising I'm not like him, is it?'

He opened his eyes and looked at her, and Sally let out a breath, knowing that it would be so easy to say the wrong thing. To make it worse. ‘I'm no expert on parents,' she said finally, ‘because I never knew mine at all.'

He shivered inside the oversized jacket. ‘You were adopted, too?'

She gave a wry smile, aware that Tom was now behind her. She ignored him, sensing that they weren't going to complete this rescue until James had been allowed to talk his problem through.

‘I wasn't that lucky.' She couldn't keep the wistful note out of her voice. ‘In fact, my whole childhood was spent dreaming that someone would
want
to adopt me. That someone would like me enough to want me to be part of their family.'

How could it still feel so raw after all these years?

Why didn't it ever go away?

She felt Tom's hand slide around her shoulder and hold her tightly, and for once she didn't feel like pushing him away.

James was staring at her. ‘You really
wanted
to be adopted?'

‘Oh, yes. I really did.' She gave a wan smile. ‘People who adopt children really,
really
want them.'

James sat in silence, a frown on his face. ‘But no one adopted you?'

She shook her head. ‘No.' She kept her tone light. ‘No one wanted me that badly.'

She thought she heard Tom swear softly behind her but she didn't turn. All her attention was still focused on James.

‘So, if you weren't adopted, who looked after you? Where did you live?'

She gave a casual shrug that belied the pain of her childhood. ‘With anyone who would have me. I was moved from foster-home to foster-home and spent some time in a children's home. It was pretty grim. But I had good friends.'

‘Didn't you ever wonder about your real mum?'

She nodded. ‘Of course. Who wouldn't? But adoption seemed so special to me. It meant that someone had chosen you.' She gave a wobbly smile. ‘I mean, that's pretty amazing, don't you think? A couple decide that you're what they want, more than anything in the world.'

James was silent. ‘But my real mother gave me away.'

Sally nodded. ‘Maybe. Or maybe your real mother is the woman who fed you and changed you when you were a baby, who picked you up when you fell over and who now nags you to do your homework. Sounds to me as though she loves you very much.'

‘She should have told me before.'

Sally gave a wan smile. ‘Yes, she probably should. But I don't suppose there's ever a good time and nobody is perfect. Haven't you ever done something and then wished you'd done it differently?'

James thought and then nodded. ‘I suppose so.'

‘I know I have.' Aware that the temperature was falling, Sally reached for the boy's hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘I know you're upset and you've certainly got plenty that you need to talk about with your mum and dad, but you can't do that up here.'

‘They're going to be mad with me.'

‘And that shows that they care,' Sally said quietly, still holding his hand. ‘They're mad with you because they're worried, and they're worried because they love you. And I know you love them, too. And now we need to get you off this mountain. Lester's hurt himself, James. He's been a good friend to you and now you need to be a good friend to him. You need to come with me so that we can get you safely home and get Lester to the hospital.'

James stared at her. ‘He isn't dead?'

‘No, sweetheart,' Sally leaned forward and gave him a hug. ‘He isn't dead. But we need to get him down.'

James closed his eyes and gave a choked sob. ‘I thought I'd killed him. He came up here because I needed a friend.'

Sally nodded and released him. ‘And what a great friend he is. I'd say you're a pretty lucky boy. People choose who they're friends with, and he chose you.'

James brushed the tears from his eyes and tried to stare along the path. ‘So what happens now?'

‘What happens now is that we're going to get you down,' Sally said firmly. ‘And then, if you want to talk a bit more about feeling as though you don't belong, I'm your woman.'

‘H
E'S
still in surgery,' Tom said, pacing the staffroom in the A and E department. ‘Are you sure it was a ruptured spleen?'

‘I'm an A and E consultant,' Jack said mildly. ‘I think I can recognize the signs of a ruptured spleen. Presumably you can, too, which is why you cannulated the boy on the mountain and got him down here fast. I'm sure he'll be fine.'

‘I hope he is,' Sally said heavily, ‘or poor James is going to have even more to cope with than he does already. And he's in a pretty sorry state.'

She'd stayed with him in A and E while Jack had checked him over and she'd stayed with him when his parents had arrived, full of relief and self-recrimination.

And there was no doubt in Sally's mind that they loved James very much indeed.

‘Why couldn't he have run away somewhere flat and boring?' Jack said. ‘Why did he have to go halfway up a mountain in a howling gale?'

‘He was upset,' Sally muttered, ‘and you can hardly blame the kid for that.'

She desperately hoped that Lester pulled through or that would be something else for James to deal with.

Wondering why life had to be so complicated, Sally left the A and E department and went back upstairs to the relatives' room on the paediatric ward where she knew Lester's parents were waiting, along with James and his parents.

They were sitting in a huddle, four untouched cups of coffee on the table in front of them.

The moment she entered they looked up anxiously, and Lester's father rose to his feet.

‘Any news?'

‘Nothing yet,' Sally said gently, ‘but they'll tell you as soon as they can.'

‘It's all my fault.' James gave a sob and his mother made a distressed sound and pulled him into her arms.

‘No, it isn't,' she said firmly. ‘If it's anyone's fault it's mine for not telling you sooner, or not telling you in a different way. I did it all wrong.'

But she wasn't doing it wrong now.

Sally felt a lump build in her throat as she watched the woman cuddle the sobbing boy.

She was protecting him through something unpleasant. Wasn't that what mothers were supposed to do?

Suddenly she badly needed to be on her own.

The whole incident had forced her to confront feelings that she'd buried for years, and she felt something catch in her chest.

Satisfied that her presence wasn't needed and finding it all too difficult, she left the room silently and promptly bumped into Tom in the corridor.

‘He's fine,' he said quietly, his eyes searching her pale face. ‘I've just spoken to the surgical team. They've glued the spleen and checked him over. He'll be in hospital for a few days, but he's doing well.'

‘That's good news.' Sally managed a smile, genuinely relieved that the episode had a happy ending. ‘Go in and tell them.'

She went to move away from him but he caught her arm. ‘Sal …'

He knew.

He knew how she was feeling, just as he always had.

‘Not now, Tom.'

She dragged her arm away from his and walked down the corridor as fast as she could, determined not to make a fool of herself in front of him.

If there was one thing she'd learned over her lifetime it was that she could survive on her own.

And she knew that because she'd had to.

* * *

Tom cursed silently, watching with a sense of frustration as she hurried away down the corridor.

He knew that the incident had disturbed her and he understood why.

To help save James, she'd delved deep inside herself and bared wounds that she usually kept deeply buried.

And now she'd exposed them.

And she was hurting.

He shifted slightly, feeling her pain as acutely as if it had been his own.

Torn between his desire to go after her and the knowledge that Lester's family was waiting for news in an agony of trepidation, his duties as a doctor won and he forced himself to turn and walk towards the relatives' room.

He'd talk to the family, take them to the intensive care unit to see their son and then he was going after Sally.

And he wasn't going to let her shut him out.

* * *

She was emotionally and physically exhausted.

Her bed beckoned, but her mind was too fretful and active to even think about sleeping and she didn't want to lie still and allow her thoughts to overwhelm her.

She needed to keep busy.

Deciding that the answer was to start packing up her
things, ready to move into her new flat the following weekend, she reached for some boxes that she'd put aside ready for that task.

She was halfway through filling the second box when she heard the throaty roar of a motorbike, followed by the sound of footsteps outside the front door.

She froze and stopped breathing for a moment.

It was Tom.

It could only be Tom and he was the last person she wanted to see at the moment.

She didn't want company.

She just wanted to be on her own.

Judging from the impatient thump on the door, he had no intention of respecting that.

She stood still, determined not to answer, assuring herself that he couldn't force her to answer the door.

Finally she heard the roar of the motorbike again and allowed herself to relax, ruthlessly quashing the tiny kernel of disappointment that hovered inside her.

What would have been the point of letting him in?

She didn't intend to lean on Tom.

Sally went back to her packing but in a relatively short time the bike was back again. Her heart thumping, she waited for more knocking but this time all she heard was the sound of a key turning in the door.

Before she had time to wonder how he'd managed to get a key, he'd let himself into the cottage and pushed open the living-room door, his wide shoulders dominating the room.

‘What's the matter?' She took one look at his tense features and the recriminations died on her lips. Instead, she scrambled to her feet, concern in her eyes. ‘Is something wrong?'

He stopped dead and let out a long breath. ‘Not now.'

She stared at him, heart pounding, palms damp. ‘What do you mean, not now? What are you doing here? And since when did you have a key?'

‘Since I bullied one out of my sister. You wouldn't answer the door. I needed to see if you were OK.' He raked long fingers through his dark hair and dropped his helmet onto the sofa. ‘Damn. You gave me a nasty moment.'

It would be so easy to convince herself that he cared.
That he—

She pulled herself together, her expression cool and unwelcoming. ‘I didn't answer the door because I wanted to be on my own. And I'm not your responsibility, Tom.'

His eyes burned into hers, fire melting the ice. ‘What if I said that I want you to be my responsibility.'

Her heart rate doubled. ‘I'd say you'd gone mad.'

He wasn't playing fair.

He'd lost the right to say things like that to her a long time ago.

‘Maybe I have gone mad.' His voice was rough and he unzipped his leather jacket in a violent movement. ‘Or maybe I was mad seven years ago when I let you go.'

The tension in the air was suddenly so charged that she couldn't breathe.

‘I don't want to do this, Tom. I can't talk about it now.' Her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘I haven't had any sleep and I'm tired.'

‘And you're upset over that boy last night.' His eyes raked her tense features. ‘Did you think I didn't know? Did you think that I could hear you talking about all those things and not know how badly you were hurting? Or did you just think that I wouldn't care?'

She looked away from him, and pressed a hand to her chest. ‘I mean it, Tom. I can't do this—not now. It isn't the right time.'

‘Now is precisely the right time.' Tom stepped towards her and placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘Because you're vulnerable, and when you're vulnerable I see the real Sally.'

She could feel the strong bite of his fingers through the thin wool of her jumper. ‘You're suggesting that I'm not real?'

He was so close that she could hardly breathe and she felt a shiver of sexual awareness spread through her body.

He gave a humourless laugh and this time his hands came up to cup her face. ‘Oh, you're real, Sally.' His voice was husky as he tilted her face so that she was forced to look at him.

His mouth hovered only inches from hers and suddenly she forgot why it was that she was supposed to stay away from him.

Why would any woman want to stay away from a man as irresistibly sexy as Tom?

As if she were drugged, she stared up at him, her mind and her senses clouded by the overwhelming attraction between them.

And then his mouth came down on hers, his kiss hard and demanding.

There was no question of resisting him.

Why would she resist something that she wanted so badly? Needed so badly?

Their mouths locked in a wild frenzy, a desperate mating that was almost savage in its intensity. Responding to the building fire in her body, Sally pushed
the leather jacket away from his broad shoulders and tugged at his jumper.

Without lifting his mouth from hers, he helped her, shedding the jacket with a rough movement and shuddering as he felt the warmth of her hands slide up his back.

Dragging his mouth from hers with an effort, he ripped off his jumper and then brought his mouth down on hers again and backed her against the wall of the living room.

A lamp smashed to the floor but remained unnoticed.

She could feel him hard and heavy against her and she tried to tell him that he felt good, but her body was no longer under her control and the words wouldn't come.

His mouth seduced hers relentlessly while his hands stripped her roughly, first of her cardigan and lacy bra and finally of her jeans.

‘Do you know how badly I've wanted this?' He lifted his mouth from hers just enough to growl the words that needed to be said. Those clever hands slid inside the delicate silk of her panties and dispensed with them swiftly. ‘Wanted you?'

Her breath was coming in pants and her body throbbed with a sexual heat so intense that it threatened to overwhelm her. From somewhere she found her voice. ‘I want you, too. Now, Tom …'

She dragged his mouth back down to hers, desperate for his kiss, frantic at being denied what she needed so badly. He obliged instantly, his mouth plundering hers while both of them fumbled to remove the rest of his clothing.

There was the sound of tearing that both of them ignored and then finally he was naked and he felt good,
so good.
She sank her teeth into the slick muscle of his shoulder, pulled him closer and felt him, hard and male, pulsing against her. Her body was aching and throbbing and she gave a sob of desperation, pressing closer, raking her nails down his back until he swore softly and lifted her, his hands sliding over the curve of her buttocks as he supported her weight.

Their breath mingled in desperate pants and he adjusted her position and then sheathed himself inside her in an almost primitive act of masculine possession. She cried out in the most exquisite pleasure, her head tipped back and her eyes closed as he thrust again, the pressure of his body pushing her hard against the wall.

But she didn't care.

She welcomed the roughness, the desperation because she felt it, too. That same raw urgency that seemed to devour him engulfed her and consumed her, driving her higher and higher, beyond the limits of human control.

Her whole body shimmered with ferocious sexual need and she wrapped her legs around him, encouraging him, her sobs and gasps intensifying as he drove into her again and again, his body slick and hard against hers.

It had been so long and their need for each other was so great that it couldn't last.

She felt the build of pressure, the sudden increase in masculine thrust and surge of power and then their bodies exploded together in a wild, out-of-control climax that left them both breathless and wordless and shaking with reaction.

Feeling the race of his heart and the harsh sound of his breathing, Sally closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the sensations that still coursed through her trembling body, proof that such a powerful explosion couldn't just vanish
into nothing. She swallowed in disbelief as he lowered her gently to the floor, his arms still locked around her.

For endless seconds neither of them spoke, the only sound their fractured breathing and frantic attempts to regain some sort of control.

And then he slid a hand behind her neck and his tone was both rough and gentle at the same time. ‘So—if I said I'd missed you, would you believe me?'

There was no missing the humour and irony in his voice and she gave a small smile.

She wanted to say that she'd missed him, too.
That she loved him.

The thought almost shattered her control.

No, no, no!

She couldn't do this a second time.

She reminded herself that making a mistake once was forgivable, but making the same one twice was nothing short of foolish.

Last time he'd made the decision for both of them.

He was quite capable of doing the same thing again.

Suddenly she needed to minimize what had happened between them. Needed to reduce the shattering impact of his lovemaking.

‘I think we both had a stressful day.'

He was silent for a moment and his breathing gradually slowed. ‘I've had plenty of stressful days before,' he murmured roughly, lowering his head and branding the soft hollow of her throat with the heat of his mouth, ‘but I can assure you that I don't do this.'

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, steeling herself to reject the affection.
The intimacy.

She couldn't afford to enjoy it. Couldn't afford to accept it.