Amy Andrews - The Single Dad's New Year Bride p.02

I’m not really hungry,’ she said, still recovering from the brief moment when his face had been, oh, so close to hers.

‘Well, if you do develop an appetite, feel free to help yourself to anything you want in the kitchen.’

Hailey nodded, absently brushing her chin against the crown of Tom’s head. His hair was soft and smelled like soap.

‘I’ve left my mobile number on the fridge. In case.’

Hailey stilled as Callum said goodbye to Tom and headed for the door. In case? In case of what? She felt a nudge of worry spike her bloodstream and kick her pulse up a notch. Tom hadn’t been well. He’d had leukaemia with a complicated course of treatment. What if he got sick while she was looking after him? Like Eric had?

She quickly moved Tom and settled him in the armchair, then hurried to catch Callum at the front door. ‘You mean in case he gets sick?’ she said, her voice low.

Callum smiled. ‘Or falls out of a tree. Or breaks his arm. Or cuts a major artery. You know, the usual.’

Except he wasn’t likely to do anything of those things, was he? Tom was hardly usual. But he could relapse at any stage. ‘What if he gets a fever or becomes lethargic?’

Oh, God, how did he do it? How did he let go after Tom had been so sick? How did he ever leave him? Why wasn’t he constantly worried, constantly alarmed at the things that could befall a kid whose immune system had been completely wiped out not that long ago? ‘What if…what if he gets a rash?’

Callum’s smile died on his lips when he met her unblinking gaze. Hailey’s alarm was genuine. Why should any of those things concern an experienced paediatric nurse? Annie’s mother maybe, but Hailey? He frowned. Was that what was freaking her out? Why she had been reluctant to come tonight? To get involved with them? Tom’s illness? Had losing her baby made her hyper-vigilant?

‘I’m only going to be gone for two hours, Hailey,’ he said gently. ‘I’m sure no calamity will strike in that time that you can’t handle.’

Hailey felt the cold hand of fear clutch at her gut. What if she couldn’t? What if she missed something? An image of Eric lying critically ill on a ventilator played on her inward eye. Paul’s gut-wrenching grief echoed in her head.

‘Hailey.’

Callum’s strong, confident voice reached through her escalating panic. She looked at him.

‘Tom’s in remission. He’s fine. Look at him. Nothing’s going to happen to him while I’m out.’

Hailey held Callum’s gaze for a few moments before forcing herself to look down at Tom. Tom, who had come to find her, book in hand. He chose that moment to look up at her and smile one of his cheeky smiles. Callum was right. He did look fine.

But her confidence had taken a real hit when Eric had fallen ill so quickly. It had taken many months to trust her instincts again. To realise that no one could have foreseen the rapid onset of the meningitis that had claimed his young life.

She took some deep, calming breaths. ‘Of course.’ She shot him a confident smile. The second last thing he needed other than thinking she’d rather have a hole drilled in her head was that he was leaving his son with a complete basket case. ‘Of course. Go. We’ll be fine, won’t we, Tommy?’

Tom nodded and they went back to the armchair. Callum lingered. He could see Hailey had relaxed. She had begun reading to Tom again, putting on a funny voice as she read the words.

Hailey read on aware of his scrutiny. ‘You’ll miss it,’ she said as Tom turned the page. She didn’t bother to look up.

Callum took her cue and left but the uneasy feeling persisted. The trouble was it didn’t have much to do with Hailey’s moment of doubt and everything to do with how good it felt to see them snuggled on the chair together, their heads close, laughing like they’d been doing it for years.



After her initial insecurities Hailey took to babysitting Tom with all the ease of someone very used to minding children. She allowed him to push the boundaries of his bedtime and they read for nearly an hour after Callum left.

When it came to calling a halt, Tom, obviously struggling to stay awake, didn’t protest. She pulled back his bedcovers, shut his window and tucked him in. He looked very cute, snuggled into the bedclothes, his torch held securely in one hand.

‘Can you lay with me till I go to sleep, Hailey?’ Tom asked drowsily.

Her heart squeezed in her chest. How could she resist such a request when Tom was looking at her with his big blue eyes? Eyes that had seen too much in his short little life.

‘Move over, then.’ She smiled hoping she wasn’t breaking any house rules. She had often lain with Eric as he had drifted off to sleep and a small part of her heart desperately wanted to feel a little body snuggled into her again.

Tom wriggled over and Hailey curled her body around his, one arm around his waist, her other elbow bent, her head propped up on her hand. Hailey watched him fall sleep.

She’d always been nuts about kids, hence her interest in midwifery then paediatrics. The fact that she was now an aunt and due to become so again in the very near future had been a major cause for excitement in her life.

Not that long ago she’d even looked forward to having her own tribe to dote on. But the incident with Eric had made her realise that the loss of a child was utterly devastating. And she never wanted to leave herself open to that kind of hurt again. Ever.

She yawned. Sleep had been elusive since the ball. Last night’s slumber had been worst of all because of her ankle and Callum’s revelations. Her eyelids felt heavy. Surely it wouldn’t matter if she shut her eyes for a moment? She dropped her head onto the pillow, nuzzling the back of Tom’s head, his locks tickling her nose. She burrowed in closer to his little body, sighing contently as she fell deeply asleep.



Callum arrived home to a darkened house at nearly nine o’clock. He carried a bag of Chinese take-aways. He wasn’t sure if Hailey had eaten already or even if she was allergic to MSG, but the least he could do was feed her for helping him out of a tight spot.

‘I’m home,’ he called as he shut the door. There wasn’t an answer and Hailey wasn’t in the lounge room. He frowned, feeling a needle of unease prick at him. He dumped the bags of food in the kitchen and wandered towards his son’s room, urging himself to stay calm.

He pulled up short when he discovered a sleeping Hailey curled up in Tom’s bed, her arm around his son’s waist. He felt his heart flop in his chest and his breath stutter to a halt. They looked like they belonged together. A stranger could be forgiven for pegging them as mother and son.

His chest hurt and he realised he hadn’t taken a breath. He ordered himself to do so and allowed fresh air to fill his lungs. It felt weird to be looking down at something that should be a natural sight. Tom, curled up with his mother. But apart from those precious first few months of Tom’s life, Callum had no memories like this. And Hailey wasn’t his mother.

Callum turned on his heel, hightailing it out of Tom’s room, his mind spinning. He unpacked the take-aways, trying to wrap his head around the twists of his life. He’d been so certain the move from Melbourne had been exactly what they’d both needed. A change of pace. Putting the past and all its tragedies behind and forging a new future in a new town together. The job at the Brisbane General had been perfect. And Annie had always wanted to move to sunnier climes.

He’d known too that her parents had always hankered to retire in Queensland. But he’d also known they’d never move so far away from Tom. So far away from their one tangible connection to their daughter. So the decision, in the end, had been an easy one.

But he hadn’t expected this. A girl called Hailey coming into his life, kissing him on a balcony and cuddling Tom, getting under his skin, making him want things he hadn’t thought about in for ever. Tonight she looked as if she belonged here in his apartment.

He missed being part of a couple. He hadn’t realised it until now. All those intimacies of living together. The gentle touches, the secret smiles, the knowing looks, the innate synchronicity that happened when one person knew the other so completely. He hadn’t hadn’t had time to think about it since Annie had died. He certainly hadn’t had time to want it. But looking at Hailey asleep with Tom, it was all he could think about.

Maybe this had been Annie’s grand plan for him? He used to talk to her. A lot. In the beginning. But then Tom had fallen ill and existing had been all he could manage. Annie and his grief had faded even further as everything to do with Tom had taken over.


He gave himself a mental shake and left the kitchen, sitting himself down in the chair where Hailey and Tom had been earlier. He sat forward, his elbows bent on his knees, his face cradled in his palms. This was insane. He barely knew her. And he certainly didn’t know how to date and do the daddy thing.

All presuming that she’d want to. Which, given her reticence to babysit, didn’t seem likely. Hailey had significant baggage, he’d heard as much tonight. And Tom and he had enough of their own. Above all else he had to think of Tom first. And as much as Tom adored Hailey, it didn’t mean it was reciprocated.

His gaze fell on the book that Hailey had brought with her to read. It was a memoir and he flipped through it absently while his thoughts chased each other into a giant jumble. A slip of paper fell out from between two of the pages and he picked it up off the floor.

He frowned. It wasn’t paper. It was a photograph. Hailey was cuddling a little boy who was laughing up at her. The boy looked about Tom’s age and the spitting image of the man who was also laughing, his arm draped possessively around her shoulder.

Callum’s heartbeat pounded through his veins, his curiosity piqued. He knew this was none of his business but the image was captivating. Who were those people in the photo with Hailey? Was the man a lover? Her husband? Had she been married? Was the little boy hers? What had happened to him? Was she grieving too? Was this what she’d alluded to with Tom earlier? What had Hailey been through?

So many questions. So many reasons to run a mile. And yet he still felt drawn to her. Why? He replaced the photo in the book and wandered back into Tom’s room, looking for answers. He stood at the end of the bed, observing a sleeping Hailey.

Man! She was seriously gorgeous. In sleep all her defences had been stripped away. The frown he saw on her face a little too frequently was gone, her delectable mouth, too often pulled tight, was slack and inviting. He had a feeling he was seeing the real Hailey.

But who was the real Hailey? The efficient nurse? The younger sister? The reluctant babysitter? The laughing woman in the photo with the mystery man and child? And what the hell did it matter? He didn’t need a woman in his life. He’d already had one, found happiness with one. It was greedy to expect more, surely?

He glanced at his sleeping son, grateful to still have him. Losing his wife had been heart-breaking. To have lost Tom too…that would have been soul-destroying. He usually daren’t wish for anything more. Except right now, with Hailey asleep in Tom’s bed, he wished he had a crystal ball or a magic wand. He wished he could go back and make everything right. For both of them.

Hailey murmured as if his wish had disturbed her as it had passed by. He mentally tossed up whether to wake her or not. His heart told him to let her sleep. But his gut doubted whether she’d appreciate the gesture. Yes, she got on with Tom. If he had to bet the apartment on it, he’d even say she liked him. But he’d be blind and stupid to not realise she was there only through sibling pressure.

He wondered for a moment, though, what it would be like to be allowed the liberty of kissing her awake. To feel her mouth curve into a smile beneath his, her arms creep up around his neck.

He shut his eyes against the vision and gripped the end of the bed. ‘Hailey?’ he called.

She didn’t stir so he moved closer, crouching beside the bed and giving her shoulder a shake. Hailey stirred again, muttering to herself, turning in the bed so she now faced him, his eyes level with her cleavage. He shut them and prayed for restraint. When he opened them he noticed how the T-shirt pulled across her chest, causing the three little buttons to gape and show a glimpse of purple satin. ‘Hailey,’ he said again.

It took a few seconds for Callum’s voice to penetrate the fog of sleep clinging to her. But then she was instantly awake. She sat up as if she’d been hit by an electric cattle prod.

‘Whoa!’ Callum chuckled, startled by her sudden motion and her wide-eyed demeanour. ‘Shh. Don’t wake Tom. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.’

Hailey felt disorientation fuddle her senses for a moment before clarity hit her. She’d fallen asleep in Tom’s bed? What must Callum think? It was too…too intimate. ‘Oh, God. I’m so sorry,’ she gasped, trying to ignore her gut reaction to Callum in the darkened room.

‘It’s OK.’ He smiled and moved so she could get off the bed. ‘I do it all the time. You must have been tired.’

‘Mmm.’ She yawned her head still foggy. She stood in the doorway and watched while Callum pulled the sheets up over Tom and stroked his cheek. It was such a simple gesture but the love behind it clawed at her heart.

He came and stood in the doorway with her and they both watched Tom sleep for a few more moments.

‘Oh, man, what smells so good?’ Hailey asked, turning to look up at Callum. He smiled at her and in the half-light his mouth looked plain wicked.

‘Chinese. I bought enough for two. I thought you might not have eaten yet. Come on, I’ll serve up.’

Hailey blinked at his retreating back. Well, she hadn’t eaten and she was starving, but she must have been more disorientated than she’d thought to be even considering sharing a meal with a man whose lips looked like pure sin in the subdued lighting.

She heard the clinking dishes and the spicy aroma of Chinese food wafted towards her.

‘Hailey?’

Her stomach growled. She shut her eyes and went to join him in the kitchen.

CHAPTER FIVE
CALLUM PUSHED a plate at her. ‘Here you go. What do you want to drink?’

‘Oh,’ she said, taking the proffered plate, knowing it would be churlish to refuse when he’d already dished up. ‘Water’s fine, thank you.’

He poured her a tall glass and cracked the lid on a long-necked beer for himself. ‘Let’s eat in the lounge. Ladies first.’ He gestured.

They made small talk while they ate. She sat in the middle of the three-seater sofa and he sat in the chair where she had read to Tom.

‘So how was the lecture?’ she asked when a gap in the conversation had gone beyond companionable and watching him eat was sensual torture.

Callum swallowed and hesitated for a moment, trying to sound professional. ‘Clinically? Fascinating.’

Hailey looked at him sharply. By the tone of his voice it seemed there was a lot missing in that statement.

‘Sounds like there’s a “but” there,’ she prodded, putting her almost clean plate on the coffee-table that separated them.

Callum sighed, putting his plate down too. ‘No. Not really. As a doctor, Remi’s lecture was full of information about the latest studies and advances in chemo and promising new treatments. The use of stem cells has so much potential. Remi called them the new frontier.’

Hailey could still hear the distinct lack of enthusiasm in his voice. ‘But?’

‘From a personal viewpoint, it was as depressing as hell.’

‘Oh.’ Hailey hadn’t thought of that. As a father who had watched his child endure the rigours of chemotherapy, it must have been a hard subject to warm to.

‘I mean, I wanted to go, to be informed. More for Tom than for any professional reasons. But it just reminded me, despite all the advances and the successes, what a horrible illness leukaemia is. And what his chances are if he relapses. It bought back…memories.’

Hailey swallowed. Callum was staring into the distance, his grey gaze stormy. ‘It was bad?’

Callum turned and looked at her directly. ‘It felt like my heart was being ripped out.’ Again.

‘I’m sorry.’

Callum went back to staring at the far wall. ‘He developed a lot of complications, picked up every infection going and ended up in ICU for a while.’

He stopped and looked up at her. ‘He looked so small and still. He didn’t even look like Tom. His hair fell out and he lost weight and he just looked like this haggard bag of bones.’

Hailey, her fingers trailing restlessly along the frosty sides of her glass, stayed silent even though she didn’t want to. She wanted to stop him. To tell him she didn’t want to know any of this stuff. She had enough fodder for her nightmares without adding mental pictures of a bald, skeletal Tom.

Callum noted her shuttered gaze and gave a sharp half-laugh, his lips twisting as he rolled his cold bottle of beer against his forehead. ‘I’m sorry. You don’t want to hear this.’

Hailey shrugged, resigned to her fate. Compelled to listen almost as strongly as she was repulsed. ‘No. It’s OK. It sounds like you need to talk. I think sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger.’

What would she give to be able to unburden some of her deepest, darkest thoughts when the weight of them got too much to bear?

‘But you’re not a stranger, are you?’

His midnight kiss whispered its treachery into her ear. ‘As good as.’

Callum didn’t think for a moment that she believed that. He was pretty certain she was as aware of the tension between them as him. But she had a valid point. Why was he unburdening himself to her? He hadn’t spoken to anyone about the emotional roller-coaster of the last couple of years.

People had been so concerned that he was going to fall apart after the death of Annie that he’d been working double time to prove to everyone that he was OK. Even when the leukaemia whammy had been served up to him he’d soldiered on, pretending he was fine. Being strong for Tom. For Annie’s parents.

They’d been devastated. They were elderly and he knew that life had thrown them one too many curve balls when Tom had become ill. He’d made sure he’d kept himself together for them especially. Between them and Tom and well-meaning friends, he hadn’t had any time to dwell on the unfairness of the hand life had dealt him.

Maybe it was because Hailey wasn’t going to fall all over him and shower him with pity. Maybe her reluctance to get involved with him and Tom made her a perfect sounding board. Maybe she was right, and the stranger factor removed any need to mentally edit his words. Or maybe he was just over burying it inside and she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

‘I used to watch him during the night. Watching his little chest rise and fall. Rise and fall. He’s such a shallow breather. I was terrified he’d just stop.’

‘You couldn’t have got much sleep.’

Callum laughed and took a pull of his beer. ‘No. I don’t think I’ve slept a full night in six years.’

‘You didn’t sleep well after…after your wife…I’m sorry, I don’t know her name.’

‘Annie.’

‘After Annie died?’

Callum looked at her. ‘You know, you’re about the only person who’s spoken her name to me in years. They usually just fade off or say er and um a lot while they look at their feet.’

Hailey gave a ghost of a smile. ‘I suppose people don’t want to upset you.’

‘I suppose.’

They were silent for a few moments. ‘What was she like? Your Annie?’

He looked down at his hands. He hadn’t spoken about her in such a long time to anyone. ‘Incredible. Vital. Funny. Strong. She fought. She fought hard. Even right at the end she was positive. Cracking jokes and telling everyone it was going to be OK. Trying to make it easier for me and Tom.’

He was silent for a while and Hailey felt humbled by the ghost of Annie. She hadn’t fought. She’d run away. She hadn’t been strong. She’d been weak. Maybe she should have fought harder? ‘How did you meet?’

‘At uni.’ He smiled, remembering. ‘She was a philosophy major. She thought all med students were egomaniacs.’

Hailey laughed. ‘She was wise, too.’

Callum smiled as memories tripped through his head. ‘She certainly put me through my paces.’

‘She sounds amazing.’

‘Yeah. She was. I just wish…’

Hailey didn’t need to hear his wish. He was still in love with his wife, that much was obvious. Just like Paul had still been in love with his.

‘By the time we discovered her cancer it was already in her bones and liver. In fact, jaundice was her first symptom. It was so futile. But she was determined to soldier on, to do things for herself, to not let me see how scared she was. Still, there were times when she didn’t know I was watching that she would hold Tom and look at him with this expression…knowing…knowing she was dying and she wouldn’t be around for him.’

Hailey watched him, his head downcast. She could only imagine how awful it must have been for Annie to know she was never going to see her son grow up. ‘It must have been a very invasive carcinoma,’ she said quietly.

‘It was.’

‘Her pregnancy hormones must have had an impact on its growth.’

‘Yep. Accelerated it tenfold. She was dead four months after diagnosis.’

‘Callum.’ She reached out and touched his arm. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Callum nodded. There wasn’t much else to say. Life sucked sometimes. He knew that better than most.

‘So,’ Hailey said, rousing them both from their thoughts. ‘You haven’t slept much since Annie died?’

Callum rubbed his hands over his scalp and laughed at her abrupt change of conversation. ‘Tom had reflux. And colic. And was a night owl. I walked a lot of floorboards and bought a lot of useless, unnecessary late-night infomercial rubbish.’

Hailey laughed. Maybe she shouldn’t. He was talking about Annie and Tom’s illness and being a single father, but just imagining him pacing late at night, Tom in one arm, his credit card in the other, was exceedingly comic.

Callum laughed too. It felt good to laugh in the midst of the memories that even if they’d been happy were now for ever tinged with grief. ‘Good sympathetic ear you are,’ he mocked.

Hailey tried to model her face into instant contrition and failed. ‘I’m sorry.’

Callum chuckled. ‘It’s OK. Really. People have tiptoed around me for six years. It’s nice to be with someone who doesn’t say the right thing.’

‘Thank you.’ She frowned. ‘I think.’

He laughed again. ‘So what about you, Hailey Winters? What’s your story? Do you have anything you wish to unburden?’ He glanced at the book sitting on the coffee-table, the photo inside.

Hailey sobered. Did he have all night? But her history paled in comparison to his. A dead wife and a son with a potentially fatal disease beat a broken heart and the death of a non-related child.

‘Come on, Hailey. I heard you telling Tom tonight you were nearly a mother and then I was flipping through this book earlier.’ He picked it up. ‘And this photo fell out.’ He located it and passed it to her.

Hailey stared at the picture. She’d forgotten the photo was even there. She’d bought the book while she’d been living in England and had never managed to finish it. She’d brought it home with her when she had fled. She looked at Callum and felt strangely compelled to tell him. He had opened up to her. Maybe it would help to talk about it with someone who knew the meaning of grief.

Callum noted her hesitation, the emotion clouding her soft brown gaze. ‘Is that your husband? Your son?’

She shook her head. ‘No. Eric was my charge. I was his nanny. He died in my care.’

There. She’d said it. Said what no one else would. Not her parents. Or her sisters. And not Paul. Paul’s eyes, his withdrawal from her, had said more than his words ever could. She gave him a direct look. A look that dared him to refute it.

Callum was aware of the slow thud of his heart in his chest. ‘Could you back up? I think you missed a few steps.’

Hailey nodded wondering where to start as her thumb brushed lightly back and forth over Eric’s dear sweet little face in the photo. They’d all been so happy that day.

‘I lived in London for three years. When I left here, I wanted to spread my wings. Try something other than midwifery. I have a counselling degree—’

‘Ah. No wonder you’re a good listener.’ Callum smiled.

Oh, yeah, she was great with other people’s problems. ‘I worked in a refugee crisis centre for a while, counseling kids. That was really hard work. Not physically, like nursing, more emotionally. You know?’

Callum nodded. He could only begin to imagine the problems kids like that must have.

‘Then I got a job at a large London children’s hospital in one of their general paeds wards. I did that for just over a year.’

She was silent for a while, like she was trying to order things properly for him. He didn’t want to pressure her. He wanted it to come out in her own time, in her own way, like he knew it had to.

‘Paul was a pharmacist there. I liked him…a lot. His wife had left him when Eric was a baby and his long-term nanny had left six months before that and Paul hadn’t been able to find a good permanent replacement. Eric was five and such a cutie. I’d often go over to their place and hang out with them after work.’

Callum nodded for her to continue, even though he knew where the conversation was going.

‘Not long after that Paul asked me if I wanted the nanny job and I jumped at it. I was eager to try something different and though the pay wasn’t fantastic it was a live-in position, which meant all my living expenses were taken care of.’

Except there was more to it than that, Callum could tell from the photo. There was an intimacy to the image. A possessiveness in Paul’s arm on her shoulder. It spoke of connection, of family.

‘You were in love with him?’

Hailey glanced at him, the matter-of-factness in his voice echoed in the neutrality of his facial features. ‘We began a relationship a couple of months after I moved in.’

Uhuh! That explained her little speech in the panroom about dating colleagues. It had definitely been a case of once bitten, twice shy.

‘Everything was great. Really, really fantastic. Until about three months before Eric died. His mother turned up on the scene. She wanted to reconcile.’

Hailey would never forget that day as long as she lived. The photo she was holding had been taken the day before Donna’s return. They had never been that happy again.

‘Oh,’ Callum said. What else could he say? It must have been hard for Hailey.

‘Paul, he was confused…He wanted to do the right thing by Eric…He ended it with me.’ Hailey paused, knowing she had skimmed over the details but the pain and betrayal of that moment still stung nearly two years later. Coming home to find them in bed together. She took a shaky breath. ‘They reconciled for a couple of months. I stayed on because of Eric but the situation was getting untenable for me.’

‘It must have been hard to have their reconciliation shoved in your face every day,’ Callum sympathised.

Hailey nodded. ‘It was. But she left again after eight weeks and I’m glad I stayed on. They were both devastated by her desertion. And then less than a month later Eric died.’

Callum regarded Hailey as he took a sip of his beer. She had gone silent, staring hard at the photo in her hand. ‘How?’ he prompted after a while.

‘From meningitis. We’d been out all day, shopping and looking through the Natural History Museum—he really loved that place. He was exhausted. We both were. I didn’t think anything of it when he fell asleep in front of the television that afternoon.’

Callum shut his eyes. He could hear the doubt and guilt lacing her voice. It had gone from hesitant but strong to tremulous, husky. He knew the futility of guilt and would have given anything to be able to make her see that it didn’t serve any useful purpose.

‘And he was still sleeping when his father came home and Paul went to wake him because otherwise he never would have slept that night. He was practically unrouseable.’

She didn’t know where they’d come from but tears were running down her cheeks. She wiped at them and looked at the moisture on her fingers. She hadn’t cried over this in months.

Callum saw the moisture glisten on her fingertips. No wonder she’d been so antsy about Tom coming down with something while he was out. ‘Hailey, the onset of meningitis can be so swift. It can kill in hours.’

She nodded and looked at him. She should have been embarrassed to be showing such raw emotion in front of him but on a primal level she knew that he, of all people, would understand. ‘I know that. I do. But it was…so awful. He was on life support for forty-eight hours before he died. And Paul…’

‘He blamed you.’

Hailey looked at him sharply. ‘He was grieving.’

Callum blinked at her vehement defence. It took a few moments for him to get it. Ah. ‘You’re still in love with him.’ He was surprised how much the knowledge affected him.

‘No.’ Hailey looked away. She shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’

Callum nodded. It took time. He knew that.

They didn’t say anything for a few moments. He watched a few more tears escape and trek unhindered down her face and couldn’t bear it any longer. He stood. ‘Here.’ He held out his hand to her.

Hailey looked up. Way up. Dear God, the man was a giant! ‘What?’ she asked, her voice husky with emotion.

‘I’m going to give you a hug.’

Hailey looked at his outstretched hand as if it was a monster from the deep. She sank further back into the chair.

‘Hailey,’ Callum said patiently, trying not to be insulted by her obvious aversion to his touch. ‘You’re crying. I’m offering you an age-old form of comfort. I think a hug is probably OK under the circumstances.’

She looked at his hand again. Heaven only knew, she wanted to take it so badly she could barely see it in front of her. But she wasn’t entirely sure a hug could ever be just a hug in such emotionally charged circumstances.

‘Doctor’s orders.’ He grinned, reaching impatiently for her hand lying on the arm of the sofa. He pulled her up and towards him. He couldn’t explain it—it just seemed like the right gesture at the right time. It was probably something they both needed.

Except as he enfolded her in his arms he hadn’t been prepared for the total and utter cataclysmic impact of her body against his. Yes, he’d been aware of their unspoken attraction but hadn’t remotely suspected that a friendly hug could feel so dangerous. Sexy. Sinful. Leaving him wanting more. More than hugging.

Her scent infused his senses. Her diminutive frame worked its way beneath his defences. He could feel her breath and her heartbeat and the imprint of her breasts. He looked down on her dark head pressed to his chest, her hair soft against his shirt. His fingers automatically sought her waist and the curve of her hip felt ripe and lush.

Hailey felt Callum become still as he realised what she’d already known. Their attraction was too strong to withstand something even as simple, as asexual, as a friendly hug. He was everywhere. Filling her up. Her head and her heart and her senses. She clutched his shirt to steady herself as she pressed her face into his chest and inhaled a huge dose of his clean male aroma.

Callum’s hands closed convulsively on her hips, subconsciously drawing her into him. This was insane. ‘Hailey,’ he croaked, looking down at her.

‘Callum we can’t—’

He didn’t give her a chance to finish, both his hands skimming her face and spearing through her hair as he cut off her protest with the urgent covering of his mouth.

Hailey followed where he led. There was no thought of protest now he had made that first move. Nothing had ever felt this right. His mouth was urgent, desperate, almost frantic on hers, and she matched his pace, moaning deep in her throat as the kiss dripped molten desire into her bloodstream.

She felt him lifting her up, lifting her higher until their heads were level and she felt as if she was kissing him as an equal. On her terms. Giving as well as taking. She bracketed his face in her hands, raking her fingers up into his hair, revelling in the eroticism as his very short spikes grazed the sensitive flesh of her fingertips.

She ran her palm backwards and forwards over his scalp, her hands already addicted to the sensation. He groaned and it emboldened her to push her tongue into his mouth, desperate to taste him, to explore him.

Callum moved, feeling for the lounge, lowering Hailey, placing his knee on the edge and easing her gently backwards. She clung to him, bringing him down with her, her lips glued to his.

‘Hailey,’ he gasped, pulling away, a vague sense of propriety giving him pause. He leaned his forehead against hers, his breath ragged as her mouth sought his eye, his cheek, his neck. ‘This is totally out of control. If you want it to stop, it had better be now.’

She shook her head. It was like a line had been crossed and there was no going back. Hailey sought his mouth. ‘No,’ she said against his lips.

It was all the encouragement he needed. His body imprisoned her against the soft leather as his mouth plundered hers. He moved lower, his lips seeking her neck, her ears, the straight, hard ridge of her collarbone.

His hand skimmed her side, slid under her shirt, felt the heat of her skin, ran over the contours of her stomach, her ribs and the rise of her breasts. He felt her push urgently against his hand as he cupped a lacy mound and swallowed the gasp she let out as he pushed her bra aside.

It was happening fast. His pulse hammered like a train. His breath was coming in short, sharp pants. But it didn’t feel wrong or rushed or awkward. He felt like this was what they’d been destined to do from the beginning, on the balcony that night of the ball. It was almost as if he’d been born to touch her.

And it felt good. Good to feel again. To have lust bubbling in his gut and desire heating his blood. Talking about the tragedies of his life had given him an even greater sense of living. Of making every day, every breath count.

For once he wasn’t poor Callum, the widower. Or poor Callum the single dad. Or poor Callum, the father of poor little sick Tom. He was normal. Average. Just another guy. No—not just another guy. He was a hot and virile guy. And Hailey was one hundred per cent into him. He hadn’t asked for her pity. And she hadn’t given him any.

So what if she had a truckload of baggage? That they could never be together? Her hands were on him. Touching him, wanting him. Her lips were plastered to his, her tongue dancing an erotic tango. Nothing mattered right now other than this rare moment of indulgence. It was about him and her. About male and female. Two consenting adults moving to a rhythm as old as time.

Hailey felt Callum’s hand push her skirt down, his hand on her bare thigh where it met the curve of her bottom, but still she wanted more. She’d never felt such an intense attraction to a man—ever—and she wanted it all. At once. She wanted to be part of him.

She grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He ducked out of it and she tossed it away. In seconds his smooth skin was laid bare to her touch. She wasted no time. He was warm and vital. His muscles contracted beneath her fingernails and she grabbed his buttocks, kneading them, grinding herself against him.

After a year of struggling through the darkness, of grieving and holding it all in and doubting herself professionally and as a woman most of all, Callum’s passion was a revelation. It was wonderful to just feel for once. Not to have to think. Or be sad. Or have her memories and her second-guessing driving her mad. Isolating her from life.

His lips on hers, his hand skimming her knickers, pushing up her shirt, pulling aside her other bra cup, exposing her breasts—it all felt so right. Suddenly she wasn’t being tiptoed around, being given knowing, sympathetic looks. She was being treated like a desirable woman. Not with kid gloves but with rough, urgent hands that wanted more. And it felt great.

And at this moment it didn’t matter that he was still in love with his wife. That he had a little boy. That they worked together. That they weren’t possible. None of the flashing lights mattered. None of his baggage mattered. This wasn’t about long term. About tomorrow. This was about here and now. About being wanted and desired.

Her hands found their way to his fly. There was no thought to her movements now. She was moving purely on instinct, fuelled by passion. Passion that had been dulled by a train wreck of a relationship and dampened by grief for too long. She heard him moan and any reservations she may have been able to dredge up disappeared as the first button of his fly popped easily at her touch.

And it would have led heaven knew where had not, at the precise moment Callum’s mouth closed over a nipple and her back arched, Tom let out a blood-curdling scream.

CHAPTER SIX
CALLUM pulled away abruptly. It took a few seconds for his nerve endings to deliver the impulses to his brain to realise that something was wrong with Tom.

Something was wrong with Tom.

And he was here, getting naked with Hailey? What was he doing? He was Tom’s father. Tom needed him. He pushed himself off her. Somewhere he vaguely thought about his shirt but he was moving without any conscious thought, doing up his fly, backing out of the room.

Hailey lay stunned on the lounge in a dishevelled heap, trying to gather her thoughts, get up to speed with what had just happened. Her chest heaved and her breath actually hurt. Reality invaded. Sanity returned. Tom. Tom had screamed.

She sat up, pulling her skirt down, shifting her bra back to its rightful place, adjusting her shirt, her heart still beating a crazy tattoo. She finger-combed her hair, licked her lips, savoured the trace of Callum she tasted there. Oh, God, what the hell had just happened?

Callum met a hysterical Tom halfway to his bedroom and swept him up into his arms. ‘Tommy! What’s wrong?’

‘My ear. My ear,’ Tom sobbed, his hand clutching at his right ear. ‘There’s something walking in my ear.’

Callum, his pulse pounding through his head, hugged Tom to his chest in a brief, hard embrace. A bug in the ear he could handle. For a moment, in his sluggish lust-drugged brain, he thought the hounds of hell had paid a visit.

‘Get it out, get it out,’ Tom cried, shaking his head from side to side.

Callum kissed Tom’s forehead. ‘OK, Tommy. OK.’

He strode into the lounge room, Tom still grasping the side of his head.

‘What is it?’ Hailey asked, jumping up from the chair. ‘Is he OK?’

‘Seems like he has an insect in his ear,’ Callum said. ‘Can you hold him while I get my auroscope and some oil?’

‘Of course,’ she said breathily, holding out her arms.

Callum transferred Tom into Hailey’s waiting arms, his gaze lingering for a second on the swollen fullness of her lips. They exchanged a heated look. He knew he’d be inside her now if they hadn’t been interrupted. How could he have let things get so out of hand?

‘Ow, ow, ow,’ Tom cried, pressing his ear hard as he clung to Hailey’s neck.

‘It’s OK, baby,’ Hailey crooned, sitting back down on the chair behind her. ‘Wont be long now. Daddy will get it out.’ Tom writhed on her lap and she held him tight, rocking him slowly, dropping kisses on his forehead.

‘It’s scratching. It’s scratching,’ he wailed.

‘I know. I know,’ she whispered. She’d never had an insect in her ear but she’d nursed a couple of patients who had, and they’d described it as a truly awful experience.

The insect’s tiny movements were magnified a hundredfold because of the proximity to the eardrum. A noise that would normally need a powerful microphone to hear suddenly sounded like a set of bongo drums going off inside the head. There were plenty of old wives’ tales about people who had been driven mad by insects in the ear, and if Tom’s frantic movement was any indication, she could see why.

Callum flicked on the main lights as he returned with an auroscope, some long-necked angled forceps, a bottle of olive oil and an eyedropper.

‘OK, Tom. Let me have a look in your ear.’

Hailey sat Tom so he was straddling her lap, his face pressed into her chest, his head turned slightly so Callum had easy access to his son’s right ear. Callum inserted the funnel-shaped earpiece into Tom’s ear canal and looked through the magnified viewfinder. The light of the auroscope shone straight down, illuminating everything.

‘Oh, yeah. I see it. A little black bug.’

Tom cried some more, rubbing his face into Hailey’s shirt.

‘Lie down, Tom—let’s get that bug out.’

‘Put your head on my lap, sweetie,’ Hailey suggested, and she helped get Tom into position. ‘Lie very, very still.’

Callum filled the eyedropper with olive oil and gently dripped it into Tom’s ear. Tom whimpered as the warm oil oozed inside.

‘It’s OK, Tom,’ Hailey soothed, stroking his forehead. ‘It’ll just feel a little strange.’

Callum refilled the eyedropper and squirted some more in. The object was to drown the insect or at least weigh its legs down with a viscous substance, thus preventing it from moving around. The oil immediately alleviating the pain of seemingly having the percussion section of an orchestra playing at full throttle in his son’s head.

Callum was hoping he wouldn’t have to use the angled forceps to remove the insect and as they watched, the black bug floated out of Tom’s ear canal on a surge of olive oil.

‘Hey—there it is!’ Callum removed the offending bug, grabbing some tissues out of the box on the coffee-table and placing it on one of them. ‘We got it, Tommy. It’s out.’

Tom sniffled. ‘Can I look?’

Callum used another tissue to absorb the oil puddled in Tom’s ear. He helped him up, holding the tissue in place to catch the remainder of the oil as it ran out.

Tom looked at the small black bug. ‘What sort of beetle is it, Daddy?’

‘Looks like a stinkbug to me,’ Callum mused.

‘Can I take it for show and tell?’

Callum and Hailey laughed. ‘Sure. We’ll put it in a specimen pot.’

Tom crawled onto his father’s lap and snuggled into his chest. They all sat for a few moments, basking in the afterglow of another crisis averted.

‘Daddy,’ Tom said, sitting up. ‘How come you don’t have a shirt on?’

Callum glanced at Hailey. It was hard to believe now that she had pulled it off him not even ten minutes ago. ‘It was hot,’ he said.

Hailey looked away but not before Callum saw the rise of colour in her cheeks. Very hot.

‘Ooh, can I have a hot chocolate, please, Daddy?’

Callum laughed, well used to Tom’s fluid style of conversation and short attention span. Normally he would have said no. He’d have awarded Tom full points for trying but he still would have said no. But Tom’s scream had given him such a fright he was prepared to indulge his son a little. Tom had, after all, saved him from himself. ‘Okay. But then straight to bed.’

‘Hailey, too.’

‘Oh, I don’t know, Tom. It’s getting late. I think I might go home.’ She didn’t really want to hang around and witness their domestic bliss. Her brain was overloaded with enough images to decipher, not least Callum’s still bare, very sexy chest—she didn’t need any more. She really should go. Think herself lucky that things were halted before they’d gone too far.

‘Ple-e-ease, Hailey,’ Tom pleaded. ‘Please.’

Hailey stared at his earnest little face. She shouldn’t. She’d already overstepped way too many lines tonight. Falling asleep with him had been her first. She had a feeling that Tom would all too easily wheedle his way into her heart. God knew, his father was certainly making inroads. Together they were a dangerous team. But she did have him to thank for bringing their hang-the-consequences passion to a screaming halt.

‘OK. Just this once.’

They all adjourned to the kitchen. Callum, still shirtless, placed Tom on the central bench and clattered around to find what he needed, keeping up a constant patter with Tom. Anything to keep his mind off what had almost happened in the lounge room.

Hailey watched them together, laughing and chatting, plainly adoring each other, obviously a happy family unit. The two musketeers. She’d been here before. Teetering on the edge of something wonderful, on the brink of inclusion, only to discover when the chips were down that there wasn’t any room for her. Callum was still in love with his wife, the wonderful Annie, and she’d be foolish in the extreme to set herself up to play second fiddle again.

They drank their hot chocolate in the kitchen, Tom sitting on the counter, his legs swinging as if he was holding court. Hailey and Callum leaned their hips against the benches, both grateful for the egocentricity of a six-year-old with a milk moustache. Tom didn’t notice their distraction or lack of enthusiasm.

Half an hour later Callum bundled Tom off to bed. After a bug hunt in his room revealed no more predators waiting to acquaint themselves with his eardrum, Tom was content to put his head down.

Callum stroked his son’s forehead as he drifted off to sleep. Everything that was important to him was right here in this room. It was imperative to focus on that. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered.

Hailey was gathering her things together when Callum re-entered the lounge room. He stood in the doorway and watched her, not sure what to say now they were alone. One thing was certain, they sure couldn’t leave it like it was. ‘You’re leaving.’

Hailey looked at him. ‘I think that’s best.’

‘I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t know what happened. How it got so out of hand so…quickly.’

She shrugged. ‘Melancholy. We’ve been through the mill a bit, you and me. ‘

It hadn’t felt very melancholic to him. ‘Is that it? Is that all?’ It wasn’t wise, it wasn’t what he needed—but he wanted her anyway.

She sat on the lounge, staring at her lap. Of course it wasn’t. But what other explanation could there be as to how could things have got so serious in a week? OK, yes, she had known at the ball that he was something special. But that had been a reaction to his sheer physicality.

What she had felt tonight, when he’d been talking about Annie and Tom, and yesterday, when he’d helped her with Henry, was an entirely different kettle of fish. That had been much, much worse than a physical pull. There had to be a simple explanation for it.

‘What do you want from me, Callum? You want me to admit I’m attracted to you? Fine, I’m attracted to you.’ It seemed pointless to deny what they both knew.

He pushed away from the doorframe and made his way closer, only the coffee-table separating them. He sighed. ‘The feeling is entirely mutual.’

Hailey nodded. So why did he look as miserable as she felt? ‘It’s still not going to work.’

‘I know. My priority has to be Tom. I’m all he’s got.’ And the truth was he didn’t know how to be a dad to Tom and date at the same time when work and Tom took up all his time before he collapsed into bed in a tired heap at eight-thirty each night. He didn’t lead a very thrilling life. What could he offer her?

‘Of course he should be. I’d think less of you if he wasn’t. Tom still needs you—a lot. Anything we do is going to affect him. It wouldn’t be fair on him to start something, to get his hopes up, to have them dashed if it didn’t work out. We don’t have the freedom to make mistakes and fight and make up and feel our way and then decide it wasn’t right to start with. And I’ve just come through a relationship that, frankly, sucked the soul out of me. I’m a little damaged. Not good relationship material.’

‘I think we’re a both a little damaged in that department,’ Callum murmured, burying his hands in his pockets.

Hailey nodded. Right. She’d be especially foolish to get involved with another man who was still in love with his wife. His dead wife. Competing with an ex had been hard enough. Competing against a perfect memory?

She looked up at him. They both had issues that made an involvement problematic. And hadn’t they had enough of problematic? Didn’t they both deserve a stretch of easy? She stood. ‘I’d better go.’

Callum nodded. ‘Thank you for tonight. For filling in on such short notice.’

Hailey swallowed, hating the strained formality of his voice. Had it only been an hour ago it had been husky and rich with desire? She picked up her bag. ‘You’re welcome,’ she murmured.

Callum followed her as she limped out, and Hailey was excruciatingly aware of him, of his heat enveloping her in its seductive embrace. She reached for the doorhandle, her hand trembling. The door resisted being opened and she realised it was locked.

‘Let me.’ Callum reached around her and slowly flipped the lock.

Hailey stood very still while he did it, his body almost pressed against hers. He lifted his hand from the door and placed it on her shoulder, his thumb lightly caressing the skin of her nape. ‘I wasn’t expecting this, Hailey. I wasn’t on the lookout for someone.’

Hailey shut her eyes for a few seconds, almost leaning into his touch, almost resting back against him. She shrugged, looking at him. ‘Neither was I.’ She dragged in a ragged breath and opened the door. ‘Goodnight,’ she croaked, escaping into the corridor.



It was hard, going back to work after her days off. Hailey dreaded the moment she’d run into Callum again. She knew she was going to have to get used to it. That unless she left and went to work somewhere else, she was bound to run into him most days.

But she wasn’t going to let her impossible attraction to him dictate the course of her life. She wasn’t going to run like she’d run from London. Find another job where they’d never cross paths. Look for another apartment far away from his.

She felt good about working on 2B. Yvonne was a great boss and Rilla and Beth and her father were all close by. She adored her apartment. Rilla had been muttering about selling it and she was seriously considering buying it from her. She wasn’t going to let whatever it was between her and Callum derail her life.

It would help, of course, if she could just stop remembering their passionate exchange. The feel of his chest, smooth and warm beneath her palms, taunted her. The taste of his mouth, the shape of his lips, the sound of his deep appreciative groan played relentlessly in her head. The heat of him stayed with her, the smell of him clung to her. The look, the hungry, devouring look he had blasted her with still twisted her insides into knots.

And she was supposed to interact with him like she didn’t know these things? Like she didn’t remember them? Like there wasn’t an erotic movie playing in her head every time she clapped eyes on him?

Good luck!

Surprisingly, though, it was a few days before their paths did cross and not quite in the way Hailey had envisioned.

‘Hi, Rosemary, is this the new admission?’ Hailey asked, walking into the medical bay and parking herself at the end of bed eight’s cot. Yvonne had asked her to relieve Rosemary so the junior nurse could go to lunch. The ward lights had been dimmed and the curtains pulled for the daily afternoon rest period.

‘Yep,’ Rosemary confirmed.

‘Gosh, he is a skinny minny,’ she commented.

Little Timothy Dunbar was three weeks old and had come up from Emergency for intravenous fluids to correct his mild dehydration. He’d been admitted under Callum’s team and would have his vomiting and failure to thrive investigated during his stay. It was suspected that the babe had pyloric stenosis.

He was guzzling his bottle like he’d been wandering in a desert. She noted the intricate taping of the IV that had been placed in a scalp vein. With his dehydration venous access had obviously been difficult to find and a scalp vein had been the only option. At least Timothy was bald and they hadn’t had to shave any of his hair.

‘Yes,’ Rosemary agreed, as Timothy finished scoffing his bottle and she sat him on her lap to burp him. ‘Nothing wrong with his appetite, though.’

‘Here, I’ll take him.’ Hailey moved closer, holding her arms out. ‘You must be starving.’

Timothy chose that moment to prove once and for all that he was heading for the operating theatre. A large fountain of vomit surged from his mouth, covering the metre distance that separated him from Hailey, reaching her uniform in a perfect arc.

Hailey leapt back, her reflexes well honed from years of nursing vomity babies, but unfortunately, this time, not fast enough. Warm, regurgitated milk seeped into her clothes, soaking them and her underwear beneath. She looked down at the mess in dismay as the baby started to cry.

‘Shot! Great aim, young Timothy.’

Had she not been covered in baby vomit, Hailey might have felt self-conscious about seeing Callum again for the first time, but the current circumstances weren’t conducive to erotic thoughts.

She turned and gave him a quelling look.

He grinned at her. ‘Well, I think that confirms our suspicions of pyloric stenosis.’

‘Great. A comedian,’ she said, reaching for the clean towel on Timothy’s bedside cabinet.

Rosemary was looking at a wet Hailey with a horrified expression as she jiggled the fractious Timothy. Hailey had noticed that the junior nurse had been nervous around her since the blocked trachy incident. This was, no doubt, her last straw. Rosemary looked like she expected to be sacked on the spot.

‘It’s OK, Rosemary. This wasn’t your fault. If I had a dollar for every time a patient’s thrown up on me, I’d be a rich woman. Why don’t you go on to lunch? Dr Craig…’ she turned and shot Callum a sarcastic smile ‘…obviously has time to sit around and be funny. He can hold Timothy while I get changed.’

Callum inclined his head. ‘It will be my pleasure. Especially now you appear to be wearing the entire contents of his stomach. I think that makes me safe.’

Callum plucked a still bawling Timothy from Rosemary’s lap and cradled him in his arms. ‘Shh, Timothy,’ he crooned. ‘It’s OK. You and I are going to have a little chat.’ He took the chair that Rosemary had vacated. ‘You know it’s never polite to throw up over a girl, Timothy. Never.’

Hailey looked down at Callum and rolled her eyes. He winked at her and she shook her head. It was all right for him, he wasn’t covered in baby sick. He returned his attention to Timothy and afforded her a view of his downcast head. She remembered how it had felt beneath her hand the other night and her fingers itched to run over it, to feel the velvety stubble tickle her palm again. She threw the towel down on the floor instead, soaking up the puddle on the floor.

‘I need a shower. I’ll find Joyce.’

Ten minutes later, Hailey had showered and changed into a pair of scrubs. It wasn’t ideal but she only had a couple of hours left to make do. Joyce was wheeling her mop and bucket out of the bay as Hailey approached.

‘Thanks for mopping up, Joyce.’

‘No worries, love.’

Hailey stood at the entrance to the bay and watched Callum still deep in conversation with Timothy. He was sitting on the edge of the low chair, bent forward at the hips with his elbows propped on his thighs, Timothy safely cradled in his outstretched arms. He was slowly rocking him, his big hands supporting Timothy’s head and neck expertly.

She’d spent five minutes in the shower trying not to think about Callum Craig’s expert hands and what they’d done to her body. Dear God, pull yourself together! She strode into the bay annoyed with herself and her one-track thoughts.

‘Thank you, Callum,’ she said briskly, desperate to maintain a professional façade in front of him when in reality she was wearing underwear she’d washed out in the shower and dried to the best of her ability in a few minutes and her brain was remembering acutely every second of their passionate clinch last week.

‘Shh,’ Callum scolded quietly, looking up at her.

He tried hard not to do a double-take when he saw her. She was fresh from the shower and in scrubs and looked way more appealing than he’d ever thought possible. What was that old song? Something about women in uniform? He had a sudden urge to retrain as a surgeon.

Her hair was damp around the edges the odd wet tendril fell from a hastily constructed ponytail. Her face was free of make-up and he could see the freckles across her nose that had fascinated him so much at the ball.

Hailey looked down at the efficiently wrapped bundle, looking even smaller in Callum’s comparatively giant-like grasp. ‘Oh, he’s asleep,’ she whispered, momentarily caught up in Timothy’s button nose and cute bow mouth.

She crouched down in front of Callum and gently stroked Timothy’s forehead, being careful to avoid the taping of the scalp vein IV. He looked like a glowworm toy all swaddled in his polar fleece bunny rug, only his head visible.

Callum watched Hailey’s face soften. She’d marched over here all businesslike but one look at Timothy’s cuteness and she had collapsed like a house of cards. It was the last thing he needed to see. More evidence of how good she was with kids.

He cleared his throat quietly. ‘I examined him while you were gone. There’s a definite olive shaped mass in his stomach now. I think an ultrasound would be a waste of time. I’m going to see if we can schedule him for OT at the end of this afternoon’s list, tomorrow morning’s if not.’

Hailey looked up at him. She knew that the lump Callum had felt was the muscles of the pylorus at the distal end of the stomach which had become thickened and enlarged. That made it difficult for food to travel through, and eventually over the first few weeks of life, as in Timothy’s case, they become more contracted, resulting in forceful vomiting, failure to thrive and dehydration with sometimes severe electrolyte imbalance.

‘Do you want us to fast him?’

Callum nodded. ‘I’m pretty sure his stomach is empty now so, yeah, let’s fast him and I’ll write you up an increase in his IV fluids.’

Hailey nodded. Crouched as she was, their heads were quite close. The urge to touch his hair returned and she clenched her fists.

‘I’ll see to it.’

Callum nodded. He was reluctant to move. Holding a baby again was nice. It bought back such lovely memories of Tom at this age—before Annie had died, before the leukaemia. Hailey was looking at him with a similar appreciation of such a tiny bundle and he felt that connection with her again. The one he’d felt since the ball.

Hailey was distracted by his hair again. It just begged her to touch it. She shouldn’t be but suddenly she was wondering how it would feel rubbing against her skin. Rubbing in places that were entirely inappropriate to be wondering about at work.

She looked away, embarrassed, but not before she’d seen Callum become aware of her blush.

‘Hailey? Everything all right?’

She closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear the tone of his voice. The one that spoke of shared intimacies. That wasn’t how their relationship was going to be.

She looked up, looked him straight in the eyes, and gave a nonchalant shrug despite her heart hammering like made. ‘I was just wondering why you wore your hair so short. Are you covering up some premature balding. Or greying?’

Callum laughed. ‘None of the above. I made a pact with Tom. When he started to lose his hair, I shaved mine off too.’ He shrugged. ‘I kind of got used to it. It’s low maintenance and I don’t have to brush it ever.’

‘Oh.’ Hailey hadn’t thought of that contingency. Of course. It made perfect sense. What else would a father dedicated to his son do?

Callum watched her digest the information and couldn’t work out what she was thinking. But he’d hoped they’d get the opportunity to talk again and now was as good a time as any.

‘So, we’re OK? You and me? You think we can do this? Just be colleagues? It’s not going to be weird between us?’

‘Of course not.’ Even if it killed her, she’d make sure of it. ‘Even if the whole time you were away, the whole time I was speaking to an impressionable infant, all I could think about was you in the shower?’

Hailey swallowed as the blast of heat from his bold statement mixed with the heat in her face and she momentarily lost her train of thought. He’d been thinking about her? In the shower? Naked?

And her? What had she been thinking about? Him. OK, maybe not naked but she doubted it would have taken her imagination long to get him that way.

This was clearly insane. They had to put the brakes on. She moved her head closer to him, directing her mouth closer to his ear. ‘We’ve been through this, Callum. Do me a favour, don’t think about me in the shower. Don’t think about me naked at all. Friends are all we can be.’

Callum sighed. She was right. ‘Of course. Friends.’

She nodded and pulled back from his closeness, snatching a big lungful of Callum-infused air as she went. She stood on shaky legs and walked away to arrange Timothy’s pre-op care.

Good. They were both on the same page.

CHAPTER SEVEN
LIFE went on. Working together got easier. They were professional around each other but both studiously avoided anything of a personal nature. Two months passed. Due to an unexpected illness, Hailey was offered a seat on the organising committee for the Brisbane General’s annual children’s picnic. She grabbed it with both hands, investing every spare moment into it, grateful to became absorbed in something other than Callum.

Unfortunately her attraction for Callum hadn’t ended. She’d just learnt to file it under ‘Some things in life you can’t have’ and moved on. The younger, more impulsive Hailey would have thrown caution to the winds, but the older, wiser Hailey knew the fall was treacherous. So, he was as sexy as hell and she wanted him. It would pass.

Tom, however, had insinuated himself into her life well and truly. She wasn’t sure how it had happened but he seemed to spend quite a few afternoons a week watching cable TV at her place. It had become a sort of routine, one Hailey was enjoying immensely.


Tom would finish his homework and if she wasn’t working, his grandmother, who picked him up from school and stayed until Callum got home, would send him to her for an hour or so, always bearing some home-baked goody for them to share.

It was a bitter-sweet time. But not as bad as when she witnessed Callum and Tom together. She often spotted them around the apartment complex, in the lifts or by the pool, and occasionally even at work, when Callum brought Tom into 2B on weekends for his rounds. It tugged at Hailey’s heart to observe their easy interaction. Their relationship was everything a father and son’s should be. It reminded her of Eric and Paul, and as painful as that was to relive, it helped to keep her focused on not repeating past mistakes.



Hailey was relieved when mid-March finally arrived and the Saturday of the picnic dawned bright and clear. She was nervous and excited in equal measure. The culmination of two months’ work was about to unfold and she couldn’t wait to see the looks on the children’s faces today. But the number of things that could go wrong also weighed on her mind. At least the weather had behaved.

She was out early at the local park with a band of eager volunteers, helping to set up. The annual picnic was part fundraiser and part community service. A way of throwing a little sunshine into the lives of kids—and their families—who were either currently inpatients or had been patients in the past. A way of giving back to the community while raising awareness of the important role the Brisbane General played.

It was a free event. The hospital was able to subsidise the rides, the food and the entertainment largely because most of the attractions had been donated. All money raised from raffles, silent auctions and charitable offerings on the day, both big and small, were channelled directly back into 2B. Many pieces of ward equipment had been bought over the years because of the yearly picnic. Unfortunately, as government budgets grew tighter, only covering the bare necessities, events such as the picnic were vital fundraisers.

By the time eleven o’clock came round and the gates opened, Hailey already felt exhausted. But the excited chatter of children as they streamed past her and the looks on the faces of parents who had left their worries at the gate made the hours of toil, of phone calls, of checking every minute detail, all worthwhile.

There was a true carnival atmosphere. A Ferris wheel dominated the end of the park and, along with a massive merry-go-round, was bound to keep the kids happy all day. Children’s music blared from the loudspeakers. Clown doctors were set to wander around, entertaining the kids with jokes and balloon animals.

Stalls with various carnival games were dotted around and she could see the petting zoo was already popular. It felt good looking out on it all, knowing that she had been part of it.

Hailey spent most of the day helping out at one stall or another. On her travels she bumped into a lot of old patients and she stopped to chat with the kids and their families. It was great to see them again and catch up on what had happened after discharge.

A lot of them didn’t recognise her thanks to the brilliant face-painting artists they’d employed for the day. Hailey had been done up to look like a cat, a stripy marmalade one, and even Beth had walked straight past her.

At two o’clock, with three hours to go, her father sought her out. ‘There you are, darling. Beth said to look for the cat that looks like she’s swallowed the cream. You’ve done a fabulous job,’ John Winters commented, kissing his daughter carefully on her blackened nose.

Hailey laughed. ‘Well, I didn’t do it all by myself, Dad.’

‘C’mon, its time for the dunking booth to open. Your mother thought you wouldn’t want to miss it.’

‘Miss my father and two brothers-in-law getting wet for a good cause? It’s going to be the highlight of my day.’

The old adage that it wasn’t what you knew but who you knew certainly played out when it came to charity. There was nothing like having the Brisbane General’s medical director, a world-renowned surgeon who had separated three sets of conjoined twins, and the emergency department director all lining up for a good dunking. Hailey had known people would pay a high price to see all or any of them dunked and luckily they’d all been good-natured enough to agree.

A crowd had gathered and there was much excitement as John, resplendent in polka-dot boardies and a bright yellow sun shirt, took the first turn. He looked like a canary or, at the very least, a sitting duck.

‘There she is, Daddy.’

Hailey knew it was Tom’s high little voice even before she homed in on his location. ‘Tom,’ she said, as the little boy, orchie in tow, launched his body at her legs rugby-tackle style. She absorbed the impact and looked down at him, ruffling his hair.

‘I told Daddy you’d be here.’

She smiled down at him and ruffled his hair again. How on earth he could tell it was her when her own sister hadn’t recognised her, she didn’t know.

‘What’s new, pussycat?’

The sun was behind Callum as she squinted up at him, making him appear even more dazzling than usual. He was in baggy denim shorts and a T-shirt that had a tropical sunset decorating his chest. She’d never seen him looking this devastatingly casual. She’d seen him in jeans a few times but never in shorts that revealed the tanned muscularity of his legs covered in light brown hair.

‘I haven’t heard that one yet today,’ she said derisively.

Callum laughed. ‘Meow!’

‘Is that your dad?’ Tom interrupted, pointing at John, who had so far managed to stay on the tiny seat perched over the tank of water, despite several attempts to dethrone him.

‘It sure is.’ Hailey nodded. ‘You want a go?’

Tom nodded his head excitedly and Hailey took his hand.

‘OK, folks,’ she announced to the crowd, who were booing and taunting John good-naturedly, threatening him with an imminent dunking. ‘Tom’s turn.’

She handed Tom a ball but it was clear that to be given any chance of success he needed some height.

‘Here, Tommy,’ Callum said, striding forward and lifting his son onto his hip. ‘How’s that?’

‘I think we could probably make allowances for the boy and have him come a little closer to the target, too,’ John said. ‘He’s only six.’

‘Ah, but he’s got a good eye, John,’ Callum warned with a smile on his face. Hadn’t he managed to spot Hailey underneath all that face paint? ‘Are you sure you want to risk it?’

John gave a hoot. ‘I think I’m pretty safe.’

‘Three turns, Tom.’ Hailey grinned and nodded at him to go.

The first one fell shy of the target by a good metre.

‘Bad luck, Tom,’ John called.

Tom looked disappointed but the crowd clapped and cheered and urged him to try again. His second shot sailed too far to the right.

‘Come on, Tom,’ John shouted over the top of the crowd. ‘You can do better than that.’

Hailey watched as his little chin jutted out determinedly, so like his father, and he squinted at the target. He swung back and threw the ball hard, hitting the mark dead on.

The crowd went wild as the seat gave way and plunged the Brisbane General medical director straight into the water. Callum jumped up and down with Tom as Hailey clapped wildly. She hugged Tom and joined them in their father-son jumping.

‘You did it, Tom. You did it.’ She laughed.

Callum was aware of every movement of Hailey’s body against his. The slide of her breasts against his chest. The bounce of her hair around her shoulders, a stray tendril gliding against the skin of his arm. The feel of her hand in the middle of his back strangely intimate.

He stopped jumping, looking down into her painted face, her freckles obliterated by brown and ginger stripes. She smiled up at him, her soft eyes suiting the elaborate feline mask. Her mouth was painted black too and he couldn’t believe that something such a ghastly colour looked so tempting.

They hadn’t been this close since that night. The night they’d almost made love on the lounge. He’d made a real effort to keep his distance this last two months. To treat her with the utmost of professional courtesy and respect. And nothing else.

It had been hard. Treating her as one of the team at work wasn’t easy when she all too readily invaded his dreams at night. And there was nothing collegial about them. Going to work each day and having to edit his thoughts and actions all the time was a strain when in his dreams he was much more daring, took much greater liberties. And, worse, she welcomed them.

Hailey saw the heat warm his grey gaze and pulled away. She faltered slightly before getting her brain back on track. ‘Well done, Tom,’ she said, ruffling his hair one more time.

They stayed and watched as John got dunked several more times, followed by Gabe, who got away relatively unscathed, and then Luca, who seemed to spend more time in the water than out. She was conscious of Callum’s gaze the entire time.

‘Oh, no, poor Luca,’ Hailey teased as she handed her brother-in-law a towel. ‘What a pity Rilla had to work. She would have loved to have seen this.’

‘I’m heading back to the General now.’ He grinned. ‘I suspect she’ll get the idea.’

‘I think Mum videoed it anyway.’

Luca turned and waved at Penny Winters, who was looking through the viewfinder of her handy cam. He groaned and muttered, ‘Dio.’

Tom tugged on Hailey’s hand and she looked down at him.

‘Can you come on the Fewwis wheel with me and my dad?’

Hailey smiled, charmed by his mispronunciation. Just about everything to do with Tom charmed her. And, yes, agreeing to join them was hardly keeping a distance from Callum, but it had been two months, and apart from the erotic dreams and the exchange of one very steamy look earlier, they had been very good. Surely they could ease up a little and share one ride on a big wheel?

‘I love the Ferris wheel.’ She grinned.

They stopped on the way and bought Tom some blue fairy floss. ‘He’s tried all the other colours.’ Callum grimaced.

Hailey cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘That’s a lot of sugar.’

‘I wouldn’t ordinarily but he does love it and, well…it’s a picnic.’ He shrugged sheepishly.

Hailey rolled her eyes at him. ‘Soft touch,’ she teased quietly.

Thankfully there wasn’t a queue and they were ushered straight into one of the open gondolas. Tom sat next to Hailey on one side and Callum took the seat opposite, his legs stretched out in front of him, perilously close to hers. She’d been nervous about what they were going to say to each other but she needn’t have been. Tom took centre stage and she was happy to let him chat away, too conscious of Callum in her peripheral vision.

Tom shared his fairy floss with her and chatted about the picnic and what his favourite parts of the day had been. Food seemed to feature a lot.

‘Three snow cones?’ She looked at Callum.

‘There were a couple of years when he rarely ate enough to keep a sparrow alive. It’s good to see his appetite back. I don’t mind indulging him on special days.’

Hailey nodded slowly. Fair enough. She hadn’t thought about it from that perspective before. She knew anorexia was a major problem with chronically ill children and caused a great deal of stress and anxiety for their parents. She guessed that in situations like that you didn’t care what your child ate as long as they ate something.

The Ferris wheel went round at a lazy pace, giving its riders many more revolutions than they would have had at a normal carnival. The breeze ruffled her hair, lifting it off the back of her neck, and she helped it further by piling it up on top of her head and holding it there, allowing the breeze to cool her neck.

The sunny day was quite warm and it felt heavenly to be sitting in the shade of the gondola’s umbrella, complete with Mother Nature’s air-conditioning. She’d been up late all week with last-minute preparations and up at the crack of dawn today, and having a few minutes’ respite had alerted her to how weary she felt. She shut her eyes and let Tom’s chatter wash over her.

Callum took the opportunity to observe her. The face paint should have looked ridiculous on a grown woman but it didn’t. It made her look…exotic. Feline and female in the way cats often were, slinking around, twitching their tails, weaving in and out of your legs, rubbing against you, purring contentedly, urging you to stroke them.

With her hair out of the way he admired the line of her neck, bare of jewellery, her olive skin tantalising. He remembered how good it had felt to kiss her there. Her T-shirt fitted her chest snugly, stretching across her bust, emphasising its fullness, the V-neckline revealing a hint of cleavage.

She was wearing cargo pants that stopped just below her knees. They fit her hips and legs but he could see the bunching at her waist where the pants were obviously too big. He imagined she had that problem a lot with her small waist flowing out to fuller hips.

Tom started to chat about his grandparents taking him to the ‘Gold Coat’ and Hailey opened her eyes. They came slowly into focus, Callum’s features becoming sharp and distinct, his grey gaze steady. She stared unblinkingly, mesmerised by what she saw there. No doubt the most fascinating eyes she’d ever known. How easy would it be to get lost in those eyes? How easy would it be to throw caution to the winds and cross the line they’d drawn in the sand?

‘Isn’t that exciting, Hailey?’

She held Callum’s gaze for a moment longer before dragging it away and turning her attention to Tom. ‘Yes, darling.’ She used the endearment without even thinking about it, giving his skinny arm a squeeze.

‘How long is he going for?’ she asked Callum conversationally.

He sighed. ‘A few days.’

Hailey frowned at the heavy sigh. ‘You don’t sound too thrilled about it.’

He shook his head. ‘No, it’s fine.’

Hailey narrowed her eyes, sensing Callum’s hesitation. ‘But?’ She looked down at Tom, who had twisted around in his seat, his attention fully taken by the gondolas behind. ‘Don’t you get on?’ she mouthed quietly as she took the precariously dangling torch from a compliant Tom lest it drop and land on someone’s head in a gondola below.

She’d met Margo, Annie’s mother, and had been thoroughly impressed. But who knew what boiled beneath the surface? Maybe they blamed him for Annie’s death? For Tom’s illness? Maybe they’d never approved of him?

‘We get on fine. They’re great. I don’t know what I’d do without them.’

Hailey nodded slowly. ‘So why do I still sense a “but”?’

Callum stared out to the side. They’d stopped at the top as the gondolas below were emptied one by one. He could see the Brisbane General from here. ‘They try to protect him too much. They panic over the merest sniffle. I understand why but I don’t need that. I can imagine the worst perfectly well on my own without both of them worrying over a paper cut or a sore throat. I’m afraid that going to the beach might not be as fun as Tom is hoping if they don’t let him do anything.’

Ah. ‘I guess that’s their job—to worry.’

‘I know that. And I understand. Tom is their one remaining connection to Annie and I would never deny them that, but they need to give him room to be a kid.’

The carriage descended a level and then stopped again, swinging slightly. Callum took a deep breath of warm air, dropping his head back, allowing the sun to warm his face. He was enjoying this. They hadn’t spoken in anything other than a professional capacity for two months. It was nice to not talk shop with her.

‘I can’t believe what a glorious day it is. Don’t get too many of these in Melbourne.’

‘Is that why you moved’ she asked, observing the tanned column of his throat.

Callum shook his head. ‘Partly. Annie’s parents had always been going to retire to Queensland and I knew they wouldn’t if we stayed.’ He shrugged, opening his eyes and looking directly at her. ‘It was time we made a move. Tom had finished his treatments and his condition had stabilised and…we needed to get away…from the memories and the…bad things. We needed a fresh start.’

‘We or you?’ she asked gently.

He gave her a grudging smile. ‘Me, I guess, most of all. I think Annie would have approved, though. She always loved the sunshine state. I know Margo and Keith were over the moon. I think it was best for all of us. I think I made the right decision.’

Hailey heard the edge of doubt infect his confident words. He looked so isolated, so alone. It was something she’d often seen on Paul’s face. The fact that the buck stopped at him, that he alone was responsible, that there was no one else to lean on. She reached forward and gave his knee a pat. ‘Well, for what it’s worth, I think you did. You’re well liked at the hospital and Tom seems to love it here.’

The urge to cover her hand with his was strong but she moved it away before it could happen. Her words did help. ‘Yes, he loves his new home.’ Due in large part to his afternoon visits to Hailey’s.

Tom returned his attention to them and they chatted about lighter things as the Ferris wheel inched closer to the ground until it was their time to get off.

Callum’s pager beeped as they alighted. ‘Sorry, I’ll just get this,’ he said, pulling his mobile phone out of his pocket.

Hailey took Tom over to watch the clown doctors and they were both giggling when Callum joined them. ‘Damn, I have to go to the General. There’s a baby they need me to see.’

‘Oh, Daddy, I don’t want to go yet. I still haven’t had a go on the merry-go-round.’

‘Tom, I’m sorry, we have to go.’

‘Can’t you go and I stay?’

‘You can’t stay here by yourself, Tom.’

‘I’m not by myself,’ he said, sliding his hand into Hailey’s. ‘I’m with Hailey.’

Hailey looked at Tom, who was looking up at her with pleading eyes, and felt herself melt. ‘How long will you be, do you think?’ She’d promised to help clean up afterwards. Not to mention she’d also promised herself not to get involved with the Craig men. A promise she’d already broken when she kept opening her door to Tom.

Callum looked at their joined hands and felt as if he’d been punched in the solar plexus. It looked so right. He shouldn’t encourage this. He looked at her sheepishly. ‘Hopefully only an hour at most.’ After today he really must start to curtail Tom’s time with Hailey.

Hailey capitulated with a light sigh. ‘OK, then.’

Tom jumped up and down and hugged her legs. Callum grinned at her.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Just go.’

Tom didn’t seem concerned by his father’s absence at all as he ran around like a mad thing from stall to stall. Hailey felt exhausted, just watching him. The exuberance of childhood or a lethal mix of preservatives from the many and varied sugar-filled treats he’d consumed?

An hour passed. An hour and a half passed. People started to leave. The picnic was shutting at five and the organisers were looking forward to getting the cleaning up over and done with so they could have a well-deserved rest and a quiet celebration. The day had been a roaring success.

It was nearly five when Tom staggered off the merry-go-round after five turns. He looked dizzy and more pale than usual. He looked at Hailey and said. ‘I don’t feel too good.’

Hailey wasn’t surprised, with all that sugar in his system. She knelt down to give him a sympathetic hug when he suddenly bent over and dry-retched. Hailey picked him up and put him down next to a nearby bin and rubbed his back as he emptied the contents of his stomach. Luckily the park was nearly deserted now and he got to disgrace himself in relative privacy.

She wiped his mouth with a serviette she had stashed in her pocket. She made a note to tell Callum there was indulgence and then sheer gluttony! She pulled Tom close to her. He felt all floppy and his forehead was hot against her neck.

A prickle of alarm skittered down her spine. She pulled him away. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked, giving him a little shake as he shut his eyes.

‘Feel really sick,’ Tom whispered, his head flopping back against her shoulder. ‘Where’s orchie?’

Hailey felt a full-on surge of alarm rip through her system as she pressed his ‘security blanket’ into his weak grasp. Oh, God. God, no. It couldn’t be happening again. She picked him up, her legs charging towards the exit, her mind in full catastrophe mode, thinking too quickly to actually form any cohesive plan. All she knew was she had to get him to a hospital.

What if he was relapsing? She stopped. Put him down. Did a quick check for bruises on his limbs and torso. There were a couple on his legs she hadn’t noticed earlier. Her heart slammed in her chest. She picked him up again and continued on her way. His chances if he relapsed were awful. It was imperative she get him to medical help immediately.

She looked from side to side as she went, trying to think straight while the London disaster played over and over in her mind. Eerily similar echoes of that time taunted her. Tom felt like a boneless sack in her arms. She remembered how floppy Eric had been when his father had tried to wake him, how she had dismissed Eric’s tiredness as exhaustion after a big day. She wouldn’t do the same with Tom. She wouldn’t drop the ball with another little boy.

‘I’m going to the hospital,’ she called to one of the committee members, not breaking stride, not even knowing who it was, not caring about the edge of panic in her voice. She should feel guilty, leaving everyone else to clean up, but nothing was more important than getting Tom to hospital. Getting him to a doctor. To Luca. To his father.

Callum. Oh, God, she had to let Callum know. She pulled her mobile out of her pocket and dialled his number, still steaming ahead. It went to his message bank. ‘Damn it!’ she cursed, waiting for the tone. ‘Callum? It’s Hailey. Something’s wrong with Tom. Meet me at Emergency.’ She hit the ‘end’ button and was pleased to see her car was not far away now.

Tom murmured sleepily as she gently placed him in the seat and buckled him up. Her hand shook as she turned the ignition key, her pulse pounding in her head, the thought of Eric’s lifeless little body taunting her, scaring her, sickening her.

She forced herself to drive with care to the General, even though every instinct told her to put her foot down to get around the sudden influx of weekend drivers afflicting the road. To run the orange lights that littered her path. To take right of way from people who didn’t realise the emergency that was unfolding in her car. The trip took ten minutes and each one felt like an age.

She screeched to a halt in the emergency parking bay outside the General’s emergency department, running around the other side and taking Tom out, waking him in the process.

‘Where are we?’ Tom murmured looking around, clutching his torch.

‘At the hospital, baby,’ she whispered, her voice feeling almost strangled by the lump in her throat. She prayed hard to all the deities she’d ever learned about at school. Please, don’t let anything happen to this dear little boy.

She left both car doors open as she strode inside, forgetting about the paint that covered her face, trying to curb her panic, trying to think clearly so she could articulate what she needed.

‘Hails?’

Hailey almost fainted from sheer relief when Rilla called her name.

‘Oh, thank God,’ she half sobbed, passing Tom over to her sister. ‘Is Luca here? It’s Tom. He has a fever and he’s been vomiting and there’s some bruising on his legs. You have to get Luca.’

Rilla looked at an increasingly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Tom giving her a very cheeky grin. He looked like he’d been sleeping but apart from that he didn’t look too sick to her. Hailey, on the other hand looked almost beside herself. She may have been covered in thick face paint but it didn’t disguise the agitated fidgeting of her hands or the worried shifting from foot to foot.

‘Rilla! Please. Don’t just stand there. He needs his temp taken. He needs a full blood count. He needs a doctor, damn it!’

Rilla looked at her sister. She knew where this was coming from and she knew it would require delicate treatment. ‘Come on, I’ll go and get Luca,’ she said calmly. ‘What about Callum?’

‘I left him a message.’

Rilla nodded, making a mental note to page Callum after speaking with Luca. Heaven only knew what kind of a panicked message Hailey had left. She ushered her sister into a cubicle and pulled the curtain. ‘Sit up here, Tom,’ she said, plonking him on the narrow examination bed. ‘I’m going to take your temperature, OK?’

‘With an ear one or under my arm?’ Tom asked.

‘An ear one,’ Rilla confirmed with a grin. She placed the tympanic thermometer into Tom’s ear canal, laughing at his funny face, and waited for the beep.

‘What is it?’ Hailey demanded, pacing the small cubicle area.

‘Thirty seven point five,’ Rilla said.

Hailey sat down, feeling physically ill. ‘He does have a fever.’

Rilla gave her sisters shoulder a squeeze. ‘It’s hardly raging, Hails.’

Hailey looked at her sharply. What was the matter with her? Didn’t she realise how quickly children could die? Because she did. Rilla was an experienced emergency nurse, she must know this stuff. ‘Get Luca,’ Hailey ordered.

‘Hails.’

‘I want blood tests.’ Hailey tried really hard not to shout or sound too frantic so she didn’t scare Tom, but she was caught on a déjà vu treadmill and already things in her mind had escalated to tragic proportions.

Rilla left the cubicle and came back with Luca. Hailey was pacing again while Tom was shining his torch at the ceiling and making shadow puppets.

‘Hi, Tom,’ Luca greeted the boy, glancing at Hailey and then at his wife.

‘Hello,’ Tom said, not looking away from his torchlight fun.

‘What’s going on, Hailey?’ Luca asked gently.

‘I think he might be…’ she looked at Tom, not paying any attention to the adults. ‘R. E. L. A. P. S. I. N. G. He needs a full blood work-up.’

Luca looked at Rilla again. ‘I think we’d need Callum’s permission to go ahead and do that.’

The curtain opened abruptly, making a harsh scraping noise. ‘Tom!’

‘Daddy!’ Tom jumped up from his reclining position, running along the length of the gurney and throwing himself into his father’s arms.

A breathless Callum hugged him tight, relieved to see that there didn’t seem to be too much wrong with him at all. Hailey’s message had scared the hell out of him and a dozen worst case scenarios had stormed through his mind as he had run down the fire escape two stairs at a time and bolted to Emergency.

‘Daddy, you’re squeezing me.’ Tom giggled.

Callum relaxed his grip a little and kissed his son’s forehead. ‘What’s going on here?’ Callum demanded. Hailey looked wild-eyed, her hands twisting together, opening her mouth to say something and then stopping again.

Rilla jumped in. ‘Hailey was a bit concerned that Tom was coming down with something.’

‘He has a fever, Callum,’ Hailey said, her voice tense with worry. ‘He vomited. He has a fever. There’s bruising on his legs.’

Callum’s pulse accelerated as her poorly leashed panic started to infect him. He knew what she was saying. He tightened his arms around Tom again, ignoring his protests as he inspected his son’s legs. He sighed. ‘Those bruises are from yesterday, Hailey.’ He hugged Tom some more. ‘What’s his temp?’ he asked Rilla.

‘Thirty-seven five.’

Callum felt relief flood his system, his heart banging so loudly he thought his chest was about to explode. He looked at Hailey and wanted to wring her neck for frightening him so much.

‘Hailey.’ He looked at her over Tom’s head the anxiety creasing her brow obvious. He sighed. ‘You scared the hell out of me.’

Hailey blinked at the anxiety in his voice. She hadn’t meant to. Tom was sick, she’d had to get him to hospital.

Rilla looked from Callum to Hailey. They obviously needed to talk. ‘Tom, why don’t Luca, you and I go and find you a sticker?’ Rilla suggested. ‘We have some around here somewhere.’

‘Yay! I love ’tickers,’ Tom said eagerly, scrambling down from his father’s almost constrictive embrace, blissfully unaware of the tension in the cubicle. He took Rilla’s hand eagerly.

‘Go easy,’ Rilla said quietly to Callum, nailing him with a fierce look before flicking the curtains aside and letting an eager Tom pull her along, chatting happily about stickers and the picnic.

Callum watched them go, encouraged by his son’s bright chatter and his energetic skipping. Rilla’s words turned over in his head.

‘Are you sure Tom…?’

‘He’s fine,’ Callum said gently, turning back to face her.

Hailey felt tears well in her eyes as his quiet insistence ripped through her anxiety. Her panic started to recede, the awful sense of déjà vu, holding her in its clutches, released her. Rilla, Luca and Callum weren’t concerned. No one seemed worried. She could hear Tom’s bright laughter and started to realise what she’d done.

‘I’m sorry, I just thought…He vomited and was really floppy and…’

Callum covered the distance between them and crouched down in front of the chair she was sitting on. ‘He had enough sugar to run a rum distillery,’ he said patiently.

Hailey nodded, the lump in her throat getting bigger by the second. Sugar and merry-go-rounds didn’t mix. The bruises were old. She’d made a terrible mistake. ‘Of course…I…’

He rubbed his neck. She was looking so mortified. So isolated. He put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. She’d given herself a huge fright too and his instincts told him she needed comfort, not a reprimand.

‘I’m sorry, Callum,’ she said into his neck. ‘You have every right to be angry with me.’

Callum pulled back slightly. ‘I’m not angry with you. You did frighten the life out of me, though,’ Callum said, running his hand over the stubble of his hair. ‘I understand where this is coming from, Hailey, I do, but I get enough of this kind of panic from Annie’s parents.’

Hailey nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms as he spoke, a gesture she found immeasurably comforting.

‘I’m on tenterhooks every day as it is. I have nightmares about him relapsing. I…’ He looked around for the right word and decided the English language didn’t possess one that could do any justice to his overwhelming feelings of impotency. ‘I hate how out of control of all this I am. But I’m trying to give him a normal life. He’s not Eric, Hailey.’

Hailey nodded, feeling her chest constrict as the enormity of the panic she’d created sunk in. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She’d let what had happened with Eric override her clinical judgement. Let it blind her to what had been in front of her all along—a kid with too much sugar and boyhood exuberance on board. She felt foolish. ‘I know,’ she whispered, leaning into the comforting stroke of his hands. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Maybe it’s best if you and Tom don’t see so much of each other.’ He didn’t want to do this to punish her but Tom and Hailey had been spending a lot of time together and he didn’t know if he could survive another of those calls.

Hailey nodded. Tom had wormed his way into her heart. The dread she’d experienced that afternoon when she’d thought he was sick had been almost crippling. Maybe a little distance from him was a good idea.

‘I’m going to take Tom home.’

Hailey looked into the calm grey pools of his eyes and saw his withdrawal. Paul’s had been like that. She averted her gaze, unable to stand the distance she saw in Callum’s. She stared down at her hands, knowing he was right, hoping he wouldn’t see how much it hurt. ‘Of course.’

‘See you next week,’ he said gently. Part of him wanted to linger, to take her back in his arms. The other part wanted to go to Tom and hug him close.

He chose Tom.

CHAPTER EIGHT
HAILEY WOKE to pounding at her door on Sunday night. She looked at her bedside clock with bleary eyes. Nine. She hadn’t slept a wink last night after the incident with Tom and had finally fallen into the black abyss of sleep from sheer weariness about an hour previously.

She sat up, knocking something to the floor, the room in darkness except for the flicker from the television set. She switched the lamp on, trying to orientate herself as she squinted at the insult to her eyes. Her head felt like it was full of cotton wool.

The bed was strewn with several DVDs, the remote, headphones, photo albums and several scrunched-up discarded tissues she’d used to wipe away the flood of tears that she hadn’t seemed able to stop since yesterday. The incident with Tom had bought back memories of Eric’s battle for life and Paul’s betrayal. It had been an emotional time.

The door was pounded on again and she threw the duvet back, covering most of the mess. Who would be calling at nine o’clock on a Sunday night? She padded to the door and looked through the peephole. Callum? Her heart slammed against her rib cage. She looked again. It was definitely Callum—her guilty conscience hadn’t just conjured him up.

She fumbled with the handle as she opened the door. ‘Callum?’

He looked terrible. His jaw was dusted with dark stubble, looking rough and scratchy, almost the exact opposite of the velveteen stubble that covered his scalp. His clothes looked like they’d been hastily thrown on, his creased, collared shirt untucked with the buttons done up wrongly. His grey eyes looked troubled. Stormy.

Callum’s gaze devoured her from her tousled hair and sleepy eyes to the crease on her face obviously from her bedclothes. ‘I woke you up.’

‘It’s OK,’ she dismissed.

Now he was there, he wasn’t sure how to start. He had acted on impulse, not giving a lot of thought to what he was going to say. ‘I dreamt about Annie,’ he said after a moment. ‘I haven’t dreamt about her in years.’

Hailey gazed at him for a few moments and nodded. ‘Where’s Tom?’

‘At the coast with his grandparents.’

‘Of course. I forgot.’ She nodded again, holding his troubled gaze. ‘Come in. I’ll make us a cup of tea,’ she said quietly, opening the door further and standing aside.

He followed her through to the kitchen, watching her wordlessly from the doorway as she padded around in her bare feet. She flicked on the kettle, took some mugs out of an overhead cupboard, placed teabags in the cups, spooned sugar into them.

She was wearing a white singlet with shoestring straps that didn’t quite meet the waistband of her long striped cotton pyjama bottoms. He could see her belly button and her untethered breasts bounce with each movement. ‘I owe you an apology. I didn’t mean it about not seeing Tom again.’

Hailey gripped the kitchen counter. ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘You were right. I overreacted.’

He pushed away from the doorway and moved to stand on the other side of the bench. ‘And I knew where that was coming from. I know how much Eric’s death affected you. I was just…a little…thrown.’

Hailey didn’t want him to apoligise. She’d spent the last day castigating herself for yesterday’s debacle. She’d alarmed Callum unnecessarily. Callum, who lived every day under the cloud of Tom’s possible relapse. And she’d made a fool of herself in front of Rilla and Luca, not to mention setting her confidence back months.

After Eric she had doubted her skills, her ability, her clinical judgement—had even contemplated giving up nursing altogether. But her family had convinced her to work on 2B and slowly her faith had been restored.

Until yesterday.

The kettle boiled and then switched itself off, and she poured their tea automatically. She picked both mugs up and carried them through to the lounge, conscious of Callum’s gaze on her back. She placed them on the coffee-table and took a seat.