Their Marriage Miracle (5 page)

After a slight shake of her head the gap between Sophie’s face and the mirror increased fractionally. Fiona waited patiently as Sophie ran her tongue around her lips, attempted a small smile, and tried to watch her eyes.

With great care Fiona turned Sophie’s face so that they were looking at her right cheek. Then with a gentle movement she eased Sophie around to look at the left side of her face.

‘I can’t take the scar away, but I can make it a whole lot better. It’s unfortunate that the scar runs across the muscles rather than up and down. It will always show a little, and more
so when you’re tired. I’m going to make the scar less obvious, and over the years it will fade a lot. With the help of make-up you’ll be able to hide it—if you want to.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘I’m sure you don’t, but I’d like you to trust me to help you.’ She was asking a lot from a traumatised teen. Whoever had first operated on her injury had not done the best possible job, and now Sophie believed the result to be as good as it would ever get. ‘I
can
help, big-time.’

Sophie’s enormous eyes were glued to her, sizing her up, and she felt a jolt of shock as she realised this girl was mature beyond her years.

‘That’s why I’m here,’ Sophie acknowledged.

‘Good.’ Now Fiona couldn’t help herself. She hugged Sophie. ‘I’ll see you again in the morning. And if you have any questions at all, any time between now and then, even in the middle of the night, get your nurse to call me. She’ll know where to find me.’

‘Do I have to eat at the hospital?’ Sophie’s eyes were filled with a mischievous glint.

Not knowing this hospital’s protocol, Fiona looked to Tom for guidance.

‘As long as you have nothing to eat after eight o’clock tonight you can have whatever you like.’ Tom smiled at the girl. ‘But if you’re thinking of a fast food chain, forget it. The population here is hardly enough to support one of those outlets.’

‘Thank goodness for that,’ Jacob muttered as he stood up. ‘Show me a steak house and I’ll be happy.’

‘Dad! Not steak again.’ Sophie turned imploring eyes onto Tom. ‘There are takeaway places here? Aren’t there?’

Tom appeared to think about it, until Sophie stared him down.

‘There are a few.’ He pushed his sleeve back to look at his
watch. ‘But of course, this is Hanmer Springs. They might’ve already closed for the night.’

‘Dr Tom, you’re
so
not fair.’

Fiona listened to the banter while watching Tom. He was at ease with Sophie, gently teasing her, diverting her mind from her operation. He would have been a great father. He
had
been a great father, who’d never got to see his son growing up. For both of them Liam was still five months old, as though stuck in a perpetual state of nappies and breast milk. Other children grew taller, learned to walk and talk, but not Liam. He’d never go to school, ride a bike, kiss a girl. Cot death had stolen him away, along with her heart. Along with Tom’s heart.

Her breathing grew tight. Her palms moistened. How she missed her darling boy. How she missed her marriage.

Had Tom ever thought about having another family? Her blood slowed. Why wouldn’t he? Then again, he had surrounded himself with a continuous stream of children. Were they his family now? That would be a shame. Tom was definite father material.

She bit down on her lip in an effort to distract herself from the ache that thought brought on. A long time ago she’d made up her mind never to take the risk of having more children. The thought of losing another child almost paralysed her, so nothing would ever change that decision. But she’d hoped Tom might have recovered enough to try again.

Tom returned from showing the Clarks out and made himself comfortable in a chair by propping his legs on the desk. He couldn’t get his head around the fact that after all this time Fiona was here, sitting opposite him in his office. It felt bizarre to be talking to her about patients, as though they hadn’t had all those years apart. He only had to reach across the desk and he’d be touching her.

Did he want to touch her? So far, every time he had, heated awareness of her had triggered a longing so deep it terrified him. Which meant the coming week would be an ordeal, because she was definitely forbidden territory.

So get back to being professional. Concentrate on why Fiona had come here. Think about the patients whose lives she would be making so much happier. ‘You did well with Sophie. It took me three visits to get that far with her. She’s had a difficult time coping.’

Fiona’s patience with the unhappy teen had surprised him. He had the feeling that she’d have sat with Sophie all night if necessary. But it hadn’t been necessary because of her empathy with the girl. Fiona seemed to intrinsically understand where Sophie was coming from, and what she needed from her plastic surgeon.

Patience had
never
been a part of Fiona’s make-up. Certainly not with him over the months following Liam’s death. She’d got so frustrated when he wouldn’t talk about it. At the time he’d been struggling to function enough to get out of bed every morning. In hindsight he could see that neither of them had known how to deal with what had happened. Neither of them had known how to give each other the compassion they’d needed to heal. They’d been too busy using it up on themselves.

Obviously time and events had taught her to stop and listen to people. Earlier he’d been wondering how she’d coped after they separated. He still didn’t know the answer to that, but from what he’d seen so far the result was impressive.

Looking at her, he was startled to see a warm glow colouring her cheeks as she replied, ‘Thank you. I see a lot of patients despairing because they think no one will want to look at them again. They mainly need listening to.’

How true. ‘Teenagers suffer especially. They’re so vulnerable
when they perceive themselves to be different to their peers.’

‘Often their families and friends don’t know how to cope with the situation, which adds to their problems.’

Much as they’d both felt when they’d lost Liam, he realised. And
they’d
been adults. Both had been taken up with their own grief, unable to reach out to each other or anyone else. But he should have done more. ‘Especially those who try to help.’

A flicker of understanding sparked across Fiona’s face. ‘We didn’t manage very well, did we?’

His jaw clenched. ‘There wasn’t a manual.’ How did anyone know what to do? ‘I tried my best for both of us.’

‘We both did,’ she whispered. The colour drained from her cheeks. Pain flicked into her eyes.

The urge to hold her tight against him, to take that hurt away, swamped him. He longed to stroke her hair, craved her breath against his neck. He wanted to make her feel better. He focused instead on studying her, and was shocked to realise that the inherent sparkle in her eyes had flickered out, gone, replaced by a soul-deep tiredness. His chest tightened as he thought of all the pain she’d endured because of Liam’s death and the toll it had taken on her exuberant outlook on life. He looked closer at her drawn face. Was she unwell? Was she up to the job? Of course she was. She wouldn’t be here otherwise. That much he trusted.

Gravel crunching under tyres outside reminded him of the trip to the hot pools. ‘The haemophiliac patients and their families are waiting on the bus at the front door. They’re going to the thermal pools. We always send staff with them, and I like to tag along occasionally. It’s fun playing with the kids.’

‘I’ll see you later, then.’ Fiona shuffled files together, her face wistful.

‘Come with us. That way you’ll get really warm for the first time today.’ Now, why the hell had he suggested that when he needed to put space between them?

She shrugged. ‘I didn’t bring a swimsuit.’

There—problem solved. She wouldn’t be joining them at the pool. But the devil had hold of his tongue. ‘That’s easily fixed. There’s a shop next to the pools dedicated to swimming costumes.’ Fiona in a swimsuit? His gut clenched.

‘It’s very tempting.’

‘Then grab your purse, and a towel from my bathroom, and meet me at the front steps in five minutes.’ He watched her unfurl from the chair and leave his office. He squashed a spurt of fear. In no time at all she’d got under his skin, made him very aware of her. His banging heart seemed more than happy with her arrival. His head said the hospital needed her and that she was proving to be very good with her patients. Exactly what he wanted, demanded, from the specialists who came to work here.

But personally? What did he want? Friendship? Huh! Love? No way. The hell of it was that he didn’t have a clue.

Stick to keeping everything on a professional level, remember?
Why did he feel he was already off track with that idea? Because now he worried that he’d find himself slipping back into the old habits of their previous life together. Like reaching out to touch her in quiet moments, or making eye contact to pass silent messages in crowded rooms.

Please, no.
That would be like starting over, reliving those bleak days when they’d no longer been close enough to be like that. Fiona had left him without a word all those years ago. No warning, no chance to try talking her out of going. She’d just up and gone, leaving him stunned and hurt. He’d believed she’d eventually return, but she hadn’t. Not even to explain why she’d had to go.

His heart stuttered. He couldn’t lay all the blame on Fiona.
The heavy guilt he’d managed to squash into a tiny ball deep inside now churned in his belly, threatening to break out. This time he might have to deal with it.

As the soft warmth of the tepid water seeped into Fiona’s chilled muscles she appeared relaxed for the first time since Tom had met her at the airstrip. Even the taut lines around her mouth had receded.

‘Coming along with us wasn’t such a bad idea, was it?’ He sat down on the edge of the pool beside her. Too close, but it would look silly if he moved now.

‘At least I’ve stopped shivering.’ She looked up at him, a hint of warmth in the depths of her beautiful blue eyes.

Funny how he’d never imagined Fiona in this setting with him, and yet now she was here she seemed to fit right in, as though she belonged. Goosebumps rose on his arms. Careful. That was his heart talking. He couldn’t trust those emotions when just seeing her still made him feel as though he’d been run over by a truck.

He swung around to scan the pool, found the children from the hospital at the other end clustered around Evan, one of the interns, who was organising them into teams.

‘What game can these kids play, considering they’ve got haemophilia?’ Fiona asked beside him.

‘There’s the problem. Contact sports are out, but how to stop them? We try to organise a version of volleyball, where each player has to stay within their designated space. See those squares painted on the bottom of the pool? The local council did that for us. But it’s hard to keep the children in their allocated square. Their parents tell me I worry too much.’

‘Guess they’re used to having to cope with any resultant bumps.’ Fiona watched one of the boys diving under the water to drag a friend beneath the surface.

‘Looks like they’re about to play bull rush. At least racing
each other through the water should be safe from bumps and bangs.’

‘Let’s join them and have some fun.’ Fiona slid into the water, her tee shirt billowing momentarily before absorbing the water and sinking close to her skin, hugging her curves.

His mouth dried. What was it about this woman that always affected him so easily? It seemed that some things never changed.

Someone yelled, ‘Come on, Dr Tom! Bet you can’t beat me to the end!’

A simple race should be safe. ‘An ice cream says I can!’

Hauling himself back onto the side of the pool after the race, Tom sat dangling his feet in the water. He could watch over everyone from here. But it was Fiona that his eyes kept returning to. Time and tragedy had not dimmed her beauty. Her small frame might be slighter than he remembered, but her muscles were still toned and her arms tanned deep walnut. Her dark blonde hair had faded to almost white, no doubt from the sun.

She had said something about wanting to talk to him. Caution snagged his gut. He didn’t do talking. But, watching her laughing with young Jordan, he began to wonder if he’d be missing out on something important if he didn’t try.

‘That surgeon of yours is good with the kids.’ One of the fathers sat down beside him. ‘See her playing like that and it’s hard to imagine she’s a plastic surgeon. Maybe she had a thing for embroidery as a kid.’

‘Fiona? Needlework?’ Tom spluttered. ‘Don’t be fooled by her appearance. When Fiona wants to have fun you’ll find her white water rafting, parachuting, or flying a plane. You will never find her embroidering.’

But then a memory teased the edge of his mind, grew vivid. Fiona bent over an aged cream-coloured robe, carefully repairing a small tear in the generations-old family garment.
She’d done it for Liam to wear at his christening. The christening they’d never had. Pain slid in under his skin, wrapped around his heart. His son had died too soon. Years too soon. No parent should outlive their child.

A cry from across the pool snapped through his mind. He jerked his head up, searched the pool. In the middle, Fiona pushed through the water towards two lads, Morgan and Baden. With his heart in his throat, Tom dropped into the pool and swam to join them.

‘What happened?’ he demanded.

‘It’s okay, I just banged my arm on Morgan’s head,’ Baden tried to reassure Tom.

But he wasn’t taking the boy’s word that everything was all right. ‘Get out of the water so I can take a look. You too, Morgan. Out,’ Tom ordered. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of.

Fiona hoisted herself out of the water and turned to give Baden a hand. With the boys out, and Fiona checking Baden, Tom concentrated on Morgan. For the second time that day they were working together, and it felt good.

Evan brought across the medical bag that went on every outing. It contained, amongst the usual medical requirements, a supply of clotting factors and vitamin K to cover such events as this.