Playboy Doctor to Doting Dad
Sue MacKay
A&E doctor Kieran Flynn with his delicious Irish charm has always called the shots – until now!
Arriving in Nelson to run the A&E department for two months, Kieran is greeted with not one but three life-changing bombshells:
He’ll be working with nurse Abby Brown he hasn’t seen her since their magical night together two years ago
He’s now daddy to a bouncing tot called Seamus!
His buried feelings for Abby make this hospital’s new playboy want to swap all-night parties for reading bedtime stories to the son he can’t imagine being without…
‘That’s my boy. Give it to Daddy.’
Kieran gasped. ‘What did you say?’
The air whooshed out of her lungs. Where had that come from? She’d intended discussing with Kieran what she should call him when talking to Seamus before she mentioned the D word. She stared at Kieran, aghast. He looked as shocked as she felt. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I—’
She spun around to the bench, staring at her shaking hands as she tried to pick up a knife to slice the tomatoes. He’d never talk to her again. At least not for the rest of the night—if he stayed now.
‘Abby, it’s all right.’ Kieran’s hand touched her shoulder, pressured her to turn to face him. ‘I should have a name, and I guess I am Seamus’ father.’
Seamus bumped between their legs, startling them both into looking down. He held the opener up to Kieran.
Shock drained the colour from Kieran’s cheeks. ‘Did he really understand you? Does he know I’m his father?’
Kieran stared at his son, speechless. Then slowly he crouched down and took the opener in one hand. He ran the other hand over Seamus’ head, and whispered, ‘Thanks, boyo.’
Dear Reader
Sunny Nelson is truly one of New Zealand’s gems. I moved there eighteen years ago and instantly felt at home. The city is small, but vibrant. It is picturesque, with a harbour at the front door and mountains in the background. I learnt to fly at Nelson’s airport—the one mentioned in this book. Hope does exist, and I have regularly bought fruit at the orchards lining the roads. I met my husband in Nelson, so for me it is the perfect setting for a romance.
Abby and Kieran have a lot to overcome when they come together. But they both have so much to give to each other—and to little Olivia and Seamus—that they can’t go wrong. If only they can put the past behind them …
I hope you enjoy following their journey as they move forward to a rewarding and loving life together.
Cheers!
Sue MacKay
www.suemackay.nz.co
About the Author
With a background working in medical laboratories, and a love of the romance genre, it is no surprise that SUE MACKAY writes Medical™ Romance stories. An avid reader all her life, she wrote her first story at age eight—about a prince, of course. She lives with her husband in beautiful Marlborough Sounds, at the top of New Zealand’s South Island, where she can indulge her passions for the outdoors, the sea and cycling. She is currently training as a volunteer ambulance officer.
Recent titles by the same author:
THEIR MARRIAGE MIRACLE
To Louise Groarke, my wonderful critique partner.
And to Iona Jones, Barb Jeffcott Geris,
Margie Stewart, Deborah Shattock and Emily Gee—
of the very supportive Blenheim Writers group.
PLAYBOY
DOCTOR TO
DOTING DAD
SUE MACKAY
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHAPTER ONE
ABBY BROWN stared out of the window at the long, neat rows of nectarine trees with their small fruit that were just beginning to fill out. Her father’s orchard: the one constant in her life. Each season brought its own routine and, with summer officially starting this week, December meant spraying and crop thinning.
Stop procrastinating. This had to be done. On a long, indrawn breath, she pressed redial. The one phone call she did not want to make, had tried making for two years. She knew the number off by heart she’d rung it so often. But this time she actually had to let the phone ring. Had to wait for Kieran to answer. This time she could not hang up in a panic. She could no longer put off telling him.
This was her third attempt to reach him tonight, and the only reason she kept trying was because having this particular conversation face to face with him would be worse. A whole lot worse.
The ringing stopped as the phone was picked up somewhere in Dublin. ‘Kieran Flynn speaking.’
Words died on Abby’s tongue. That sweet Irish lilt reminded her exactly why she’d got into this situation in the first place.
‘Hello? Anyone there?’ Kieran asked, a smile in his voice.
She couldn’t do this.
She had to do it. Quickly, before she could slam the phone down, she answered, ‘It’s Abby Brown.’
‘Abigail? Really? Where are you? I mean, are you here? Or are you calling from New Zealand?’ Measured surprise lifted his voice.
‘I’m at home.’ How could she afford to travel to Ireland? ‘I thought it was about time I made contact with you.’
‘What a coincidence. I’m coming down your way in a few days.’ Kieran paused then added, ‘I’m working in your local hospital for two months, managing the emergency department.’
‘I heard. The hospital grapevine is in good working order. I had hoped you’d have been in touch before coming out.’
‘I thought I’d wait until I’d settled in, get to know my way around first, before giving you a call. I also wondered if I might possibly spend some time with Olivia.’
Yeah, sure. His niece. The little girl they had joint guardianship of. The child he barely remembered to send birthday and Christmas presents to. Had he really intended calling? Or did he think this was the right thing to say now that she’d contacted him? Obviously he hadn’t realised he’d see her at the hospital. Heaven help her. It wasn’t going to be easy if they didn’t get past the news she had for him. ‘We’ll be working together.’
‘We will? That’s fantastic. For some reason I thought you were nursing in Paediatrics.’ Charm thickened the lilt.
It also sent the muscles in her stomach into spasms, which was plain stupid because she didn’t hold any special feelings for this man. Really? ‘I transferred to ED nearly a year ago. I prefer it to Paediatrics.’ These days she didn’t like dealing with sick children all the time. It made her worry too much. At least in ED she worked with a variety of patients.
‘Then we’ll have plenty of time to see each other, and catch up on things. Should be fun.’
Things? A child was not a thing. ‘That will be great. Olivia needs to get to know her Irish family.’
‘I guess so.’ He sounded unsure. Backing off already?
‘Of course she does. It’s an important part of her heritage. I think I’m right in believing you’re the only living relative on her mother’s side.’
‘No, there is her grandfather, but I haven’t a clue where he is these days. I don’t think there’s any hurry for Olivia to meet him. In fact, she’s probably a whole lot better off never knowing him.’
‘That’s kind of sad.’ She couldn’t imagine not knowing where her father was, or any member of her family for that matter. ‘Olivia adores her Kiwi grandfather.’
‘Then she’s very lucky and we should leave the situation as it stands.’ His tone suggested she’d be wise not to argue.
Okay, so she could be patient, give him time to get to know Olivia better before raising the point again. But right now she was being sidetracked from the purpose of this call. Again a deep breath.
But Kieran spoke before she could gather the courage to tell him.
‘Look, Abigail, I hate to rush you but I’ve got lots to do before I catch my plane out. Two months is a long time to be away from my job here. Did you ring for a specific reason? Or is this a welcoming call before I arrive in Nelson?’
Here it was, the moment she’d been dreading. ‘I have to tell you something that I think it best you know before you get here.’ Before she saw him again, and read the shock and anger that would surely fill those startling blue eyes that haunted her every day. Tell him, get it over. ‘I have a son, Seamus. He’s fifteen months old.’ The words poured out in a torrent, her mouth dry.
‘Oh, right. A playmate for Olivia, then. That must be good for her.’
He paused, and Abby waited, her stomach in a knot, her heart thumping in her chest.
Then she gasped, surprising hurt spiralling through her, when he said, ‘Of course, I didn’t know you were in a relationship. Have you married since we last saw each other?’
Didn’t he get it? Come on, Kieran. Do the sum. Fifteen months plus nine? What had they been doing together two years ago? Had he forgotten that night they’d spent making love? A night that had never faded completely from her memory. But, then, he didn’t have a young child running around his home to constantly remind him of that time, so he probably had forgotten. Strange how disappointed that made her feel.
She blurted, ‘Seamus is your son.’
There, she’d told him. She couldn’t take the words back. The truth was out. And the silence was deafening. Of course she’d been wrong not to have told him the moment she’d seen the blue line on the pregnancy testing strip. But his career was very demanding and he’d been afraid of having anything to do with Olivia. He’d told Abby bluntly that he believed the child would come a distant second to his job. He’d warned he’d probably send Olivia to boarding school as soon as she was old enough. Providing financial backing seemed to be his share of the guardianship issue. And Olivia was only his niece. What chance was there that he’d go the extra distance for their son? So Abby, concerned about the emotional damage Kieran believed he was capable of inflicting, had taken the easy option and kept quiet.
Huh. Easy? That’d be the day. She’d agonised over her decision every single day, knowing Kieran should be told about his child. All those aborted phone calls she’d made to him. And then there were the many letters she’d written and not posted. The photos of Seamus she’d taken and not sent. None of that counted for anything now.
‘Kieran?’ she finally whispered.
‘Are you sure he’s mine?’ The charm had disappeared now, replaced by uncertainty.
Thanks a bunch. ‘I don’t make a habit of sleeping around.’ But she had spent one passionate night with this man, a night that had been totally out of character for her. She’d been numb with grief for her brother and sister-in-law, and Kieran’s arms had been warm and comforting. Too comforting.
He continued, ‘What I meant was I used precautions each time.’
‘Ah, well, there was once when, um, we kind of forgot.’
‘I never forget. The last thing I have ever wanted is to be a parent. Because of that I make doubly sure something like this won’t happen. Ever.’ His voice snapped out that last word.
Sorry, buddy. I’ve got the evidence. ‘Seamus is the spitting image of you. Your colouring, that slight lift of the right side of your mouth when you smile. I wouldn’t be surprised if, when he starts talking, he has an Irish accent.’
Again silence fell between them. Abby twisted her hair around her fingers as she stared outside. Dusk was falling, softening the view. She’d told Kieran. At last. Even if he exploded at her, called her every miserable name he could think of, she felt as though a huge weight had finally been lifted. Not telling Kieran about Seamus had never sat comfortably with her. She mightn’t trust him to do the right thing by his child, or by her. She might believe he’d back out of their lives so fast he’d be like a train without brakes; but it went against all she believed in not to have told him the truth. Sound reasons or not.
‘Am I to understand that you’re only telling me now because I’m coming out to Nelson this week?’
‘Yes.’ She waited for the explosion, shoulders tense, fingers white where they gripped the phone.
‘There’s an honest answer.’ Were his teeth grinding? ‘Why didn’t you tell me the moment you knew you were pregnant?’
‘What would you have done about it, if I had?’
‘How do I know? I haven’t got a clue what to say now, so as to what I’d have said or done two years ago is beyond me. But I would’ve had time to get used to the idea.’ He didn’t sound like he’d really grasped what she’d told him. As in really, truly, understood that he had a child. Too much to take in?
She tried to explain the inexcusable. ‘You had made it abundantly clear how you felt about having a child of your own.’ On two occasions. ‘I’m talking about your reaction to becoming Olivia’s guardian. You were so adamant you didn’t want anything to do with her upbringing that I …’ She faltered. ‘I figured if you couldn’t cope with helping bring up your niece, the last thing you’d want to deal with would be a child of your own.’ Don’t forget the financial side. ‘I know you’ve provided well for Olivia, very well, but I didn’t want you to think I was asking for that for Seamus.’
‘That gave you the right to decide I shouldn’t know about this boy? My son?’ His words were like bullets, slamming into her with piercing sharpness. ‘You made this choice? For me?’
She would not apologise. She’d seen the trepidation clouding his eyes at the thought that he might have to raise Olivia. Trepidation that in truth she’d never fully understood. Had she done the guy an injustice? Probably. The guilt twisted her gut. But what hope was there that he’d have been willing to become a father to Seamus? In his own words, no father at all was better than a random one, and he’d told her they didn’t come more random than he’d be. ‘Kieran, rightly or wrongly, I had my reasons. But now that you’re coming here, you need to know.’ Hopefully he’d have calmed down by the time she got to see him at work. ‘And I want Seamus to know his father.’
There was a sharp intake of breath at the other end of the line. Had she gone too far?
If so, he didn’t divulge his feelings. ‘I won’t have much spare time during my tenure at your hospital, so I hope you’re not expecting a lot from me.’
Only some time with your niece, who really needs to get to know her mother’s brother. Only an acknowledgement of your son, and maybe a softening of your heart towards him. Only your understanding and forgiveness. Too much to expect? Probably.
He continued, ‘Spare time or not, we have a lot to discuss. I’ll set up a meeting with you once I’ve settled in.’
Set up a meeting? Her shoulders slumped. That’s not the way to go about this. But she’d leave it for now. ‘I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Kieran.’
What happened to not apologising? The trouble with that notion was that she felt incredibly guilty. Not only had Kieran missed out on so much of his son’s life, if he’d wanted to be a part of it, but Seamus had also missed out on too much. And right at this moment she suspected Seamus would continue losing out for a very long time to come. Maybe, when he was an adult, he’d be able to approach his father and see if they could establish a bond.
Unless she could patch things up with Kieran. She didn’t like her chances.
Five days later
Abby blinked. Nelson Airport terminal already? It seemed only moments ago she’d pulled out of the hospital car park. Had she been speeding? Not when she didn’t want to be here, surely? Not even running ten minutes late would’ve made her speed today. Meeting Kieran Flynn was right at the bottom of her ‘want-to-do’ list. Right there after going to the dentist.
But he’d emailed to ask, no, demand, that she meet his flight. Michael, the department head Kieran was temporarily replacing, had thought it an excellent idea. ‘A friendly gesture,’ he’d said. So why hadn’t Michael thought of meeting the man? And saved her the anguish of being squeezed inside her car with a hostile Irishman?
She stopped her old Nissan Bluebird in the two-minute pick-up zone and shoved out into the searing mid-afternoon heat that not even the offshore breeze helped to cool. Her skin instantly prickled with perspiration as she slung her handbag over her shoulder. Sucking in her churning stomach, she locked the car door, all the while fighting the urge to leap back in and race away.
Gritting her teeth, she headed for the main entrance. As her sandals slapped the hot, sticky pavement she practised a welcoming smile. And failed. Miserably.
Today she would have to face Kieran for the first since telling him he was a father. The ramifications of what she’d done, or not done, were about to start. She’d thought the hardest part had been phoning him the other day, but now she had to actually see him. No doubt he’d have spent the thirty-plus hours flying to New Zealand, thinking up truckloads of horrible things to say to her. Unfortunately, she knew she probably deserved them.
The yoghurt she’d eaten for lunch curdled in her stomach and her mouth soured. She hesitated. It would be so easy to turn around and head back to work, bury herself in broken bones and chest pains.
Merely delaying tactics. Kieran would still catch up with her.
Dragging her feet through the main doors, her eyes scanned the noisy crowd for the tall, dark-haired Irishman who’d haunted her dreams for the past two years. No sign of him. A wave of relief engulfed her. Maybe he wasn’t coming? Maybe he’d changed his mind.
But common sense prevailed. Of course he hadn’t changed his mind. He’d made a commitment to the hospital and if she knew one thing about Kieran Flynn, it was that he didn’t break commitments. Especially when they involved his work. But a commitment to a child? He hadn’t broken one to Olivia because he’d never made one. Abby knew that Kieran’s strong belief that he’d be an inadequate father had been behind his decision not to be a part of Olivia’s upbringing. And behind her own decision not to tell him about Seamus. She rubbed a hand down her cheek as she remember the slap of his hand on the lawyer’s desk as he had stated categorically that she should never expect him to be there for Olivia in any role other than a distant uncle who’d finance the child’s education. Abby now realised that she needed to learn more about what was behind this, for both the children’s sakes.
There would be plenty of time. Again she wondered why Kieran’s stellar career as an emergency specialist had brought him to a small city way downunder in New Zealand. Could he have been thinking about Olivia when he’d applied? Was this his way of touching base with his niece without getting too involved? She doubted it. He hadn’t exactly inundated the child with his attention since her parents had died. His communication over that time made a mute person seem verbose.
Abby tugged her blouse down over her hips and crossed to read the arrivals screen. Just where was this guy who had her little household all in a twitter? And who made her head spin with worry?
Kieran peered through the window down onto the glittering sea of horseshoe-shaped Tasman Bay. What a damned long way to come for two months’ work. But he’d have gone to Siberia if that’s what it took to please the chairman of the Board and further his own career. He sighed. He still didn’t understand why the old boy thought it necessary for him to take a secondment overseas before he put in his application for head of the emergency department of Mercy Hospital in Dublin.
He’d been heading to Adelaide, Australia, for his secondment until this one in New Zealand had suddenly appeared. Adelaide had been the obvious choice. A much larger facility with higher patient numbers, which would look good on his CV. But Nelson required someone urgently as the current head of department had a very ill child needing care in Australia. Something about a liver transplant.
Even then Kieran had resisted, but whenever he’d glanced at the travel brochure on Nelson an image of a woman and one heated night of passion, the likes of which he’d never known before or since, had kept flicking across his mind.
Abigail. She lived in Nelson. Not that he intended picking up where they’d left off that night. No, thank you. That was a road to disaster. But the mental pictures of her and that one night had caused him to fill in the wrong set of papers.
Don’t forget Olivia. It had broken his heart to watch her at the airport in Dublin, clinging to Abigail’s hand as she had disappeared from his life through the bland doors of Immigration. Even knowing he’d done the best thing for Olivia hadn’t made the pain any easier. He missed his sister, and Olivia was the only connection he had left to her. Two losses in one week had been horrendous. But no way would he change the arrangement. Olivia was far better off living with Abigail.
Kieran’s hands clenched against his thighs as the plane shook and bucked. Why couldn’t the pilot fly it in a straight line? Sweat slithered down between his shoulder blades, plastering his shirt to his skin.
A gnarled hand tapped his forearm. ‘It’s a bit bumpy, isn’t it, dear?’
Kieran flicked a glance sideways at the elderly lady sitting beside him, her crotchet momentarily still in her lap. She didn’t seem at all fazed by the turbulence. A benevolent smile and sparkling, washed-out blue eyes focused on him.
‘Just a little,’ he concurred, dragging out a smile.
‘We won’t be long now.’
‘I certainly hope not.’ He peered out the window looking for a distraction. But his mind quickly turned back to Abigail.
Of course, if he’d known of the bombshell she had been about to drop on him he’d definitely have chosen Adelaide. His muscles tensed. Would he? Truly? He shrugged, trying to ignore the multitude of questions that had buzzed around his skull since that phone call from her. Now here he was, minutes away from landing in her town. He shivered. Nelson. Where a whole bundle of difficult issues and decisions awaited him. And none of them medical.
A son. Abigail said the lad looked like him. Some alien emotion stirred within his chest, a feeling he didn’t recognise. Surely not curiosity? Or pride?
Was it the familiar fear that he’d let Olivia down? And now Seamus? But how did a man who’d never experienced love from his parents love his own child? As his father had said often enough, he’d make a terrible parent. He didn’t have it in him to love and care for children. The sooner he explained so that Abigail understood, the sooner her expectations about his role in the children’s lives would disappear. For ever.
Just grand. He’d been coming for work, and now that had been pushed to the back of his mind with thoughts of Abigail and the children, making him feel rattled. Inadequate, even.
At least he’d be busy putting in long hours covering for staff on leave over Christmas and New Year. Apparently this was the time of year that Kiwis took their major holidays, spending weeks at the beaches, out in the mountains or following major sports events. At least there’d be time to get used to the idea of being a father and to decide how to deal with it.
‘Don’t bother. You’ll make a mess of parenting, like you make a mess of most things in your life.’ His father’s voice slammed into his brain. The words that had spurred him to become an exceptional emergency specialist.
Bitterness soured his mouth as the old litany made its umpteenth rerun in his skull. He wasn’t good at looking out for people he cared about. He’d known that since the day when Morag, his sister, had tripped and broken her ankle during a student party in his flat. She’d wrecked her chances at the European ski championships. In a blind fury their father had unfairly laid the blame firmly at Kieran’s feet, telling him he was incapable of thinking of anyone except himself.
A fact his father had taken great delight in rubbing in again when Kieran’s girlfriend at the time had miscarried. Kieran had been working late and hadn’t had his cellphone switched on. His girlfriend had accused him of not being there when she’d needed him most. His father had added his taunt, saying that surely Kieran had finally learned his lesson and accepted he shouldn’t get involved with anyone who would depend on him to look out for them.
Oh, he’d learned his lesson all right. He’d made a lifetime commitment to it. And nothing one little boy could do would change his mind.
Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Kieran tried to focus on something brighter, less distressing. Abigail. Again. Funny how she popped straight into his mind. It had never once occurred to him that she’d be working in the same department he was going to. What if she insisted on being overly friendly at work? Worse, what if everyone already knew he was the father of her child? He cringed. That would put him on the back foot straight away. He was the head of the department, albeit temporarily, and fraternising with the staff was not good for staff relations.
Too late, boyo. The fraternising has been done, can’t be undone. Abigail has a child, your child. A boy named Seamus.
He would do his damnedest to keep that information under wraps. If he wasn’t already too late.
‘I’d better not be,’ he muttered.
All his muscles tightened. As they had done a thousand times on this trip whenever he thought about the situation. He still couldn’t believe he was a father.
Was that because he didn’t want to believe it?
He’d always taken care to avoid an accident of this kind. That’s why he bought condoms by the ton. But he knew the boy was his. He knew Abigail wasn’t one of those women who went from one man’s bed to the next without a care. Neither would she use something like pregnancy to snag a man into marriage. If that had been her intention, she wouldn’t have kept Seamus’s arrival a secret from him. No, Abigail was honesty personified.
Discomfort made him squirm as he remembered that night in Dublin two years ago. Both of them had been totally smothered in grief after the joint funeral of his sister and Abigail’s brother. They’d turned to each other for comfort, and for a few hours had forgotten everything as they’d discovered each other. He knew her all right. Intimately.
The plane shuddered. So did Kieran. His tense fingers ached, bent like claws. He squeezed his eyes tight. God, he hated flying. Think of something else, anything else. Abigail again. Wrong focus. But her image burned his eyeballs. As it had at unexpected moments ever since they’d made love.
‘Did I hear an Irish accent?’ Beside him the metal hook flicked in and out of the cotton. ‘What brings you out here?’
A hurricane of waist-length dark blonde hair, and long arms and legs. A quirky smile that challenged him, and piercing hazel eyes that devoured him. Abigail.
No. He hadn’t endured this agony to see her. ‘I’m working at the local hospital. I also have a three-year-old niece living here.’ And your son. What about him? If he mentioned Seamus then he was acknowledging the boy was a part of him. I’m not ready for that.
‘They’re a bundle of fun and tricks at that age. My grandson is into gardening at the moment, much to his mother’s consternation, digging being his favourite occupation.’
‘I can see how that could be a problem.’ What did Olivia enjoy doing? Damn it, who does Olivia look like? His sister? Or David? How tall was she? He didn’t know anything about her.
Appalled, he leaned his head back and stared at the moulded-plastic ceiling. He’d barely acknowledged any correspondence from Abigail about Olivia. He had behaved dreadfully, deliberately keeping out of touch. Arranging a regular money transfer from Dublin for Abigail to use for Olivia had been easy, and had salved his conscience whenever he’d thought there might be something he should be doing for his niece. No wonder Abigail hadn’t contacted him about Seamus. She must have a very low opinion of him. Would she be waiting at the airport with a bat to bludgeon him over the head so she could drag him home to see the children? He forced his fingers straight, loose. Expanded his lungs. He couldn’t blame her if she did.
Beside him the lady asked, ‘So, your niece, is she a Kiwi?’
‘Yes, she is, but she’s Irish as well. My sister married a doctor from here, a friend of mine.’ Best friend he’d ever had. ‘They were killed in a car accident in Dublin a couple of years ago.’
‘I’m very sorry to hear that.’ The woman glanced at him. ‘So the little girl has come over here to live with her father’s family?’
‘It seemed the best place for her, surrounded with lots of aunts and her grandfather. There’s only me available on her mother’s side and I live in the middle of Dublin. Not at all suitable for a small child.’ Not at all suitable for him. Thankfully, David and Morag had it written into their wills that if anything should ever happen to them, he and Abigail would be Olivia’s guardians, and she’d live with Abigail unless there was a very good reason why not. Which, of course, there wasn’t. Abigail was very caring; perfect for a small, bewildered child who’d just lost her parents.
His companion nodded at the window. ‘There’s Nelson City. We’ll be on the ground in a minute or two so you can relax now.’
‘You aren’t by any chance a psychologist?’ he asked her.
‘Just a canny old lady.’
‘What are you doing in early February? I could do with you distracting me again when I head home.’
‘I’m sure you could find a young lady to do that.’
That was absolutely the last thing he wanted. Or needed. He had a very comfortable lifestyle back in Dublin, one that didn’t allow for anyone else interfering with his comings and goings. He’d created a perfect life that didn’t involve … anyone. Especially not a family. Not with his appalling credentials. Not even Olivia and Seamus could change his belief on that.
Seamus, a good Irish name. A clever move on Abigail’s part? Or a name she liked more than any other? What did it matter what she’d called the lad? His jaw tightened some more. It shouldn’t, but the fact that she’d had his child and not mentioned it right up until he was days from leaving Dublin galled. Which wasn’t being fair to her. He knew he had a lot to make up to her for. But did he want to? It would mean getting to know the children, getting close to them. He shivered at the thought.
The plane’s wheels thumped onto the tarmac. On the ground again. The end of his journey at last. Something unfurled in the pit of his stomach. The knot caused by his fear of flying? No, this felt different. Like … excitement. No way. Did he even know what it felt like to be really excited? Abigail’s face floated into his mind, and the truth exploded through him. These feelings were all about her. The woman he’d never quite vanquished from his mind, from his body. Suddenly he couldn’t wait to see her, hug her, laugh with her.
Reason enough to stay aboard the plane and fly back the way he’d come.
CHAPTER TWO
ABBY’S gaze was pulled to the plate-glass windows looking out over the tarmac and the disembarked passengers walking towards the terminal. Her nails dug painfully into her palms. One man towered above the rest of the passengers. Raven hair shining in the sun. A winning smile on a handsome face. He’d be exhausted after his long flight, but she’d never have guessed it from the way he carried himself. Shoulders back, legs swinging with confidence. As he came through the security door his gaze swept the terminal, searching. Then those twinkling eyes met hers and she saw the wariness in them. But then his smile broadened, oozing charm.
Her heart fluttered in her throat. That exact lopsided smile had once drawn her into bed with him. The urge to weep rose as unbidden memories teased at the fringes of her mind. Sweet memories of Kieran’s face next to hers on a white pillow, of her fingers pushing through his dark curls as they’d lain entwined in the hotel’s large bed, of his deep chuckle when she’d amused him.
It had been an unnatural time when emotions were raw, feelings bouncing all over the place. She’d be a fool to believe there was anything in those memories that could be rekindled now. She’d be a bigger fool to want anything close to that.
Remember, he’s probably angry with you. As if she needed reminding. The ache in her stomach was testament to days of waiting and worrying about that. This isn’t some happy reunion of two friends. Kieran Flynn has come here to work. Not to see you. And to say they’d been friends would be stretching the facts a little.
She gulped, tugged her shoulders back. Two children’s happiness depended on her getting along with this man, who was now approaching her. But how to get around the fact that just seeing Kieran made her forget everything except him?
She studied Kieran. Sexy. The word banged into her head. Instantly she was back in that hotel bed with him. Her cheeks warmed. Her silly heart tripped. It wouldn’t be easy, remaining neutral around Kieran. But she had to try. Starting right now.
‘Hi, Kieran, welcome to Nelson.’ Scintillating stuff, but her thought processes were mush. Try to squash the longing. Hang on to the fact that you’ve deceived him.
‘Hello, Abigail.’ And he dropped a light kiss on each cheek. Almost air kisses, kisses that meant absolutely nothing. Told her nothing. ‘It’s great to see you again.’
Oka-ay. The friendly approach. The friendly playboy approach. But, then, Kieran was known for his charm, so of course this would be second nature to him. She had to be careful not to be taken in by it all. She tried for a similar tone. ‘Same. Good to see you, I mean.’ Still making captivating conversation.
He stood, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. Aha. His fingers were tense. He wore a wary smile on his face. Waiting for something? A more welcoming response from her? What was she supposed to say to him? How was she supposed to greet him? She didn’t know what he felt about the Seamus issue now that he’d had time to think about it. She hadn’t a clue how he felt about her since her revelation.
His back was ramrod straight, his chin jutting out defensively. He lifted a hand towards her, let it drop. ‘Thanks for coming to pick me up.’
Right, that helped. She knew exactly where she stood now. Not. Her hands fisted around her handbag strap. Then she got a whiff of that special Kieran scent of maleness and aftershave. She took a step back. A big step. That scent could undo all her resolve to remain neutral. It had lingered in the edges of her mind for two long, lonely years; teasing, annoying.
She forced a smile, worried he’d sense her unease. She hadn’t forgotten how perceptive he could be. ‘Kieran, I’m.’ She sucked a breath, tried again. ‘I’m really happy you’ve come. The family’s looking forward to seeing you again.’
‘How are they all? I guess the twins are out breaking the men’s hearts these days.’ This time he flashed a tired smile that had her feeling sympathetic towards him. Sympathy would draw her under his spell. That she couldn’t afford. So ignore it.
‘There have been a few casualties.’ She straightened her back again, tried for a smile. ‘Charlie and Steph have some parties lined up that you might like to go to.’ Where there’d be plenty of single women for him to enjoy the company of. Abby felt a spurt of envy. She’d love to go to a party. With Kieran.
His black eyebrows rose. ‘That’s kind, but I’m going to have to disappoint them. I’m here to work, not socialise.’
‘No one at the hospital expects you to spend the whole eight weeks tied to the A and E department. Dad’s hoping you’ll join the family for a meal on Friday night, and Olivia’s so excited about you coming. And so is Seamus, although he doesn’t really understand yet.’ From few words to too many. Brain mush again.
He stepped back, looked around cautiously. ‘They’re not here? With you?’ His glance settled on a little girl standing with a small group of people next to them.
Oh, my goodness, he doesn’t know what Olivia looks like. ‘They’re at home with their nanny.’
As he turned back and gave her another cautious smile, she added, ‘I’ve been working today. I was given time off to meet you, and take you to your apartment.’
‘Thank you, I really appreciate it.’ His smile tugged at her heart, made her momentarily forget why she’d been so nervous.
She found her mouth lifting in a return smile. ‘You didn’t give me much choice.’
‘Bit abrupt, was I?’ His blue eyes fixed her to the floor.
‘Just a weensy bit.’ She nodded, biting down on the smile. She looked up into his face, and again felt her stomach muscles tighten with apprehension. How would she survive having Kieran living in her home town? Working in the ED department as her boss? Visiting his niece and son in her cottage? If he visited them. Of course he’d visit them. He had to.
Right now she was stunned at the depth of feeling she had for this enigmatic man tripping her up at every turn. She hadn’t expected that. Get back on track, the common-sense side of her brain warned. This was the day of reckoning, the day when she’d learn how Kieran intended dealing with the fact he was a father. It had been a long time coming, and yet she had always known it would come. Even if she’d had to wait another year, another five years, it would have come.
And she would never have been ready.
‘You’ve cut your hair,’ Kieran commented, feeling a pang of loss.
‘Too hard to manage with small children and their sticky fingers.’ She flashed him a half-smile.
She had beautiful hair. Even now. Cut in a soft style that tucked around her face Kieran wanted to reach out and touch the silky strands. He resisted with difficulty. Touching her would not help the situation.
Abigail’s nervous with me. She was trying to hide it but her give-away facial expressions told the truth. Pique rippled through him. He wasn’t used to being treated in such a deliberately offhand fashion. Of course she’d be apprehensive after shocking him about Seamus, but he’d just spent nearly two days travelling around the globe so he didn’t appreciate being treated like something dragged up from the bottom of a deep pond. He was the one who had something to be upset about. And hadn’t he been charming and friendly?
‘I apologise for the brevity of my email, but there seemed to be hundreds of things to be organised before I left home.’ He risked another smile. His smiles usually won him anything he wanted.
Abigail leaned closer, a whiff of some exotic flower tantalising him. She was no doubt only now recognising that she hadn’t been very welcoming. How would she make up for that? A light kiss?
She said, ‘Baggage claim’s outside.’
Great. Getting warmer. His heart banged against his ribs. He’d have to polish his charm if the next two months were to be bearable. ‘Right, let’s grab my gear and get out of here.’
As he turned to follow her, the old lady who had sat next to him on the plane waved and called softly, ‘You won’t be needing me next trip.’ Her head tilted at Abigail.
Oh, yes, he would. He might want to win a warm smile from the woman who’d shanghaied his brain but he couldn’t imagine taking a long-haul flight with her and Olivia. And Seamus, a little voice piped up in the back of his head. He winked at the old lady. ‘See you in February.’
Then he strode outside to the baggage claim area. As he did so he thought about the unexpected change in the warm, vibrant woman standing next to him. He’d first met her at his sister’s marriage to David. Abigail seemed quieter, more uptight than he recalled. Guess being a mother did that.
He totted up other changes he’d begun noticing. Abigail didn’t bounce on her toes any more. Her quick grin seemed to have flicked off permanently. Shadows lined the skin beneath her eyes. Life since they’d spent that wonderful night together had been harder on her than him.
A screech of tyres snapped through the air, followed by a thump. A woman screamed.
Another woman cried out, ‘Quick. Someone, help.’
Kieran met Abigail’s startled glance. ‘That our cue?’
She nodded, ‘I’d say so.’
‘I’m a doctor.’ Kieran squeezed past gaping faces and prodding elbows.
Abigail followed. ‘Let me through. I’m a nurse.’
‘He stepped right in front of me.’ A male voice sounded defensive. ‘I never had a chance to avoid him.’
Abigail dropped to her knees beside a prostrate man held down at his chest by the front wheel of a four-wheeled motorbike towing the baggage trailers.
Looking around, Kieran said, ‘Someone, call an ambulance.’
‘I’m onto it,’ a man answered.
Urgency underlined Abigail’s words. ‘We need that bike lifted away.’
Kieran searched the closest faces, found the driver of the bike, an orange safety jacket and a white face the give-away. ‘How many of us will it take to move this bike?’
‘Six, I reckon. I’ll unhook the luggage trailers.’ The man’s voice trembled as he stared down at the accident victim. ‘Is he going to be all right?’
Kieran gripped the driver’s shoulder. ‘We can’t say until we’ve had a proper look at him.’
‘He kind of tripped. I never saw him coming.’
Tripped? Stepped out? Fainted? Heart attack? Kieran tossed up scenarios. The unconscious man appeared to be in his late forties, maybe early fifties, so cardiac malfunction couldn’t be ruled out.
Turning to the pressing crowd, he spoke loudly and clearly. ‘Step back, everyone. Give us some space, please.’ He searched for strong men to help lift the quad bike away.
‘Abigail, you’ll have to move aside for a moment.’ He didn’t want her getting hurt if the lift went wrong and the bike toppled over.
She nodded. When their patient had been freed, she leaned close to him. ‘You weren’t meant to start work today.’
‘If you mean, am I alert enough after thirty-six hours’ flying? No, I’m probably not up to a full-scale emergency. But I think we can manage this between us.’ At least the patient might be happier to have him around than she appeared to be.
A shadow crossed her eyes, darkening them to the colour of well-cooked toast. ‘I only meant it’s not much of a welcome to Nelson.’
He squeezed her hand, suddenly in need of contact with her. Any contact. He wanted to establish a connection that would get him over the hurdles of the coming weeks. ‘Let’s look at our man.’
They knelt, one each side of their patient, and Abigail lifted the man’s wrist as he opened his eyes slowly, blinking in the bright daylight.
‘What happened?’ he croaked.
‘You’ve been knocked down by a quad bike,’ Kieran explained. ‘I’m Dr Flynn, and this is Abby Brown, a nurse. Can you tell me your name and address, please?’
As he answered, Abigail counted his pulse rate.
‘Paul Stokes, three Caper Drive, Richmond.’
Nothing wrong with the man’s coherence. Kieran gently felt Paul’s chest. ‘I’m checking your ribs for fractures.’
He didn’t add that if any ribs had been staved in a lung might be punctured. Pneumothorax was a distinct, and very serious, possibility.
His patient grunted through white lips, beads of perspiration covered his forehead. ‘It hurts like hell. When I breathe in.’
Around them people jostled for a look at the unfortunate man while others quickly collected their bags and disappeared.
Abby placed Paul’s wrist down at his side. ‘Pulse is elevated. The paramedics can run an ECG when they arrive.’
Kieran nodded, and asked their patient, ‘Do you remember feeling any chest pain before you were knocked down?’
Paul’s voice was weakening. ‘I felt odd. Like I couldn’t quite get enough air into my lungs.’ The words dragged out around his pain, his red face now grey.
‘Did you notice the bike before it ran into you?’ Kieran was aware of Abigail carefully checking their patient’s legs for any injuries inflicted when the bike had rammed him.
‘No. Just my weird breathing.’
Abigail muttered, ‘There’s swelling along the thigh, but no blood seepage. I’d like to remove these jeans and have a closer look at his right leg.’
‘It’ll have to wait,’ Kieran replied. ‘Okay, Paul, try to relax.’ He asked Abigail quietly, ‘Just how far away is the nearest hospital?’
A slow smile curved her lips and burned him with its warmth. At last, the Abigail he’d been looking for. ‘Nearest hospital? The only hospital. You’re not in Dublin now.’ Her smile widened, taking away any sting he might’ve found in her words. ‘The ambulance base is ten minutes from here if they get a clear run.’
Paul groaned, flapped his hands over his chest. ‘Worse,’ he gasped. His eyes closed, and his head rolled to the side.
Immediately Abigail located his neck pulse, shook her head. ‘Nothing.’
Cardiac arrest. Just what they needed. Kieran fisted his hand and gave a hard thump to Paul’s chest but the heart didn’t restart. ‘Compressions. Quick, or we’ll lose him.’
Abigail tilted the man’s head back to open his airway while Kieran placed his interlocked hands over Paul’s heart. As he pressed down and began counting the compressions, his admiration for Abigail’s efficiency crept through his mind. From the moment they’d first heard the dreadful thud of Paul taking a slam she’d been one step ahead of him. Now she held the man’s head, no doubt ready to take over the compressions if required.
Kieran continued the compressions. ‘Thirty.’ At his nod Abby checked Paul’s carotid pulse, shook her head. Kieran pressed down again. Thirty compressions. No pulse. Somewhere beyond the terminal a siren screamed. Please let it be the ambulance.
Abby placed her forefinger on the carotid artery. ‘Come on, Paul, breathe for us.’
Kieran pressed down, heard Abby gasp, ‘I think we have a pulse. Her mouth curved into a tender smile as she nodded. ‘Yes, definitely.’
Kieran sagged in relief. ‘Thank goodness for that.’ He glanced up as the paramedics arrived. They would take over now. He grinned at Abigail. ‘We make a great team.’
Her smile wavered. ‘We do.’ She placed a hand on his arm and leaned close. Then suddenly jerked backwards.
Had she been about to kiss him? Disappointment surged through his tired body. If only she had. He squashed the urge to haul her into his arms and kiss her. Properly. He had not come here to rekindle their fling. That had been a one-night, grief-blanking event. It had been absolutely magical, but never to be repeated. Sadness swamped him. Never? Never.
A sigh rippled across his bottom lip. ‘At least we know we work well together.’
‘We know more than that.’ Then she slam-dunked him. ‘We also made a beautiful little boy together.’
‘So that’s our new boss.’ Sally stood behind the nurses’ station in the emergency department, ogling Kieran as he chatted to two nurses. Two female nurses, who were having trouble keeping their jaws off the floor.
‘Yep, that’s him.’ Abby sighed wistfully. He already looked as though he belonged there. Five minutes and he had the staff eating out of his hand.
Kieran had come in from the airport in the ambulance with Paul Stokes. It hadn’t been necessary but he’d insisted, saying he’d feel happier about the situation. The female paramedics had acquiesced to his charm within seconds. Abby had screwed up the parking ticket she’d found under her windscreen wiper and followed the ambulance, her car filled with Kieran’s luggage. If she hadn’t known better she’d have thought he’d come for a year. But she did know better. Even if he finally accepted his son, Kieran wouldn’t be staying. His career always came first. Why was that? Did he continuously have to prove himself, like someone else she’d known?
‘Very tasty.’ Sally almost drooled.
‘You think so?’ Abby glanced in the same direction as her friend and felt a hitch in her throat as Kieran bent over the cardiac monitoring equipment attached to his patient, stretching his trousers across a very tidy backside. But totally agreeing with her closest friend didn’t mean she had to admit it out loud.
Happily married, Sally was in the business of finding Abby a husband, so far without success. Mainly because Abby had no interest in settling down with anyone ever again. She’d tried it once and had been scorched so badly she no longer trusted her own judgment.
‘Whenever you speak in that so-who-gives-a-damn voice I know you’re covering your real thoughts. Come on, what harm can it do to admit the guy’s gorgeous?’ A smug look settled over Sally’s face. ‘He’s single, right?’
‘Don’t go there. I am not the slightest bit tempted. Believe me on this one.’ Abby huffed out a breath and turned away from the intriguing sight. She had to stop Sally in her tracks. It didn’t help that her friend didn’t know who Seamus’s father was. Abby had never divulged that information, and Sally had quickly learned not to mention it. ‘I am definitely not interested.’
‘Not interested in what?’ asked the man himself from behind her.
Sheesh. Her hands fisted in her tunic pockets. She’d been so intent on getting the message through Sally’s skull that she hadn’t noticed Kieran leave his patient and cross over to them.
‘Nothing,’ she muttered.
‘Are you sure?’ Kieran’s gaze scudded over her.
‘Absolutely.’ A shiver tickled her spine but she met his gaze head on, and gulped. His eyes, so bright, so perceptive, held her enthralled. She’d been expecting anger, not beguiling smiles and twinkling eyes. With an extreme effort she looked away, fully aware that Kieran was quite capable of seducing her into a false sense of ease before he delivered his attack about Seamus. She held no illusions that a diatribe would come. Why not? She’d behaved badly over this.
‘Hello, Abby?’ Kieran waved his hand before her. ‘Where have you gone?’
She shook her head. Not very far at all. She seemed to have lost her grip on reality today. ‘How’s Paul Stokes?’ She nodded in their patient’s direction in the hope of deflecting Kieran. ‘How’s the latest ECG looking?’
Kieran continued to study her in that disturbing manner that made her want to check whether she had any clothes on. Finally, he replied to her query. ‘Not good. Who’s the duty cardiologist? How do I get hold of him?’
Sally took over. ‘Hamish Harrington, and I’ll track him down for you.’
‘Has the patient’s wife been called?’
When Sally nodded, Kieran turned back to Abby. ‘Can you give me a quick tour of the department and introduce me to the staff? Paul’s in good hands with the intern until the cardiologist gets here.’
With his hand firmly holding her elbow, she had little choice except to do as he’d asked. But as the nurse in charge of the department Sally should be the one to show him around. ‘Sally? You want to do this?’
One wink from Sally and Abby knew there’d be no help from that quarter. Her friend would actively foster any interest that Kieran might show in her.
Tugging her arm free, Abby answered, ‘It won’t take long. It’s not a huge department such as you’ll be used to.’
‘Makes an interesting change. There might be more time to get to know the staff than I have back home.’
Abby rolled her eyes. ‘Unfortunately, we still get incredibly busy. As with any hospital board, finance rules. Staffing levels are usually at least one, if not two, people below what we require.’
‘Typical.’ Kieran shrugged. ‘Dr Banning mentioned that this hospital services a huge rural area.’
It was Michael Banning’s position as Head of Department that Kieran would be covering.
Abby filled Kieran in. ‘The whole of the top of the South Island really, apart from Blenheim, which is more than a hundred kilometres away. There are small rural towns and plenty of farms, orchards and vineyards fanning out from here, plus major industries such as forestry and fishing.’
‘Both those industries are susceptible to hideous accidents.’
‘You’re not wrong there.’ Abby’s lips pressed together and a flicker of despair cramped her stomach. Twice she’d nursed old school friends after logging accidents.
Kieran was right behind her when she pushed open the door to Michael’s, soon to be Kieran’s, office, the last stop on the tour. She felt so aware of him that her skin seemed to have a life of its own; a hot tingle touching the insides of her elbows, a searing on her neck just below her chin. She took a large step inside to put space between them, and turned to face Kieran.
The door clicked shut, and Kieran leaned back against it, his unfathomable eyes fixed on her. A shiver of trepidation chilled her. Was this it? Had the moment she’d been dreading arrived? Here? At work? Surely not.
She swallowed around the lump in her throat. ‘It’s a pity Michael couldn’t be here to meet you but, of course, he’s incredibly tied up at the moment and not expecting you to come in until Friday.’
‘Abigail.’ He stopped, shook his head. ‘You’re not comfortable with me being here, in the department, are you?’ His bewilderment appeared genuine. His chin lifted and those blue eyes darkened as he waited for her reply.
‘It’s a little awkward, with what’s between us. I—You …’ She stopped. Even today, every time he looks at me, I want to put my hands on his face, run my fingers along that strong jaw. I want one of his bone-bending kisses. No, I don’t. I want to run away from the questions in those tired eyes. ‘We do need to talk about Seamus, but I don’t think this is the place. Right now you have a patient to hand over and then you should get out of here while you can. You’re exhausted from your trip, and in need of a meal and a shower.’
For a long moment Kieran stared at her. Abby shoved her trembling fingers deep into her pockets as she waited for him to tell her what he really thought about her decision not tell him about his son.
Finally, Kieran jerked the handle to open the door. But his voice was surprisingly soft, almost sympathetic. ‘We’ve not finished talking, but you’re right, it’ll have to wait until a more suitable time and place.’
‘Thank goodness.’ Relief whooshed through Abby.
Kieran raised a black eyebrow. ‘There’s nothing to be thankful for. We have one hell of a mess to sort out.’
‘Mess?’ That was not how she’d describe her family but, then, she wasn’t the one terrified of raising children. ‘Listen, Kieran. I love those kids and believe I’m giving them everything they need to grow into happy, responsible adults. Where’ s the mess in that?’
‘I only have one.’ He hesitated. ‘Sorry, two relatives, and they both live on the opposite side of the world from me. I never know what is happening in their lives. Until a few days ago, I didn’t even know there was a second child I should be aware of. This, to me, is a mess.’
He had a valid point. Despite the photos and Olivia’s drawings she’d sent him, he didn’t really know his niece. Whose fault was that? But they weren’t really talking about Olivia. It was Seamus who hung between them, divided them.
‘You wouldn’t believe the number of times I tried to ring and tell you about Seamus. I even wrote letters to you, included photos in with some of them.’
‘Odd I never got them.’ Disbelief dripped off his tongue in great dollops.
Hurt, she cried out, ‘I can give them to you any time you want. I’ve still got them all.’
‘I don’t see the point now.’ He turned toward the door, the conversation over. At least the disbelief had abated. Then he looked over his shoulder at her. ‘One thing. Do any of the staff here know I’m the father of your son?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘There’s something I can be grateful for, then.’
Raw pain gripped her. Was he ashamed of his son? In all the scenarios her mind had tossed up, not one had included Kieran feeling like that. Shame she could not cope with. ‘You’re not giving any of us a chance.’
His smile was professional; confident and cool. ‘You think so? How’s this for a chance? I’ll visit you and the children later this afternoon. Will that suit you?’
And if it didn’t? But she could see in his now chilly eyes that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Anyway, she wanted him to see the kids, meet his son. She wanted it over and done with. Her stomach couldn’t take too much more tension. ‘Come for dinner. Six o’clock.’ Obviously he didn’t want her to deliver him to his apartment.
‘You eat dinner at six?’
‘No, the children do. We’ll eat after they go to bed.’
He pulled the door open, held it wide for her to pass through. ‘You still live on the same road as when I was here for the wedding?’
She sighed. What did he know about any of them? ‘Yes, but don’t forget I’m in the cottage next to the orchard. David and Morag’s place.’
‘I’ll see you at six, then.’ He strode along to the nurses’ station, leaving her shaking in his wake.
She stared at his ramrod back and wished him back in Ireland. Then she’d be able to go back to the simple problems of raising two small children while holding down a responsible job, of making her dollars go twice as far as they were intended to, of looking out for her father and high-maintenance twin sisters. Easy, compared to dealing with an angry, hurt man who had claim to her family.
CHAPTER THREE
KIERAN’S head pounded, and his eyes were gritty. He drove carefully, aware of the tiredness threatening to engulf him. That enormous bed back in the apartment arranged for his stay had been tempting but, given the state of his mind, sleep would’ve been impossible.
Why the hell had he said he’d go out to the cottage tonight? What had happened to the idea of getting settled before seeing the children? Abigail had happened, that’s what. Damn, but she got to him so easily. So much for his renowned self-control.
HOPE. The green road sign drew his attention, and he eased his foot off the accelerator. If he remembered correctly, the turn-off to Abigail’s place wasn’t much further.
HOPE. The small community that boasted one store and a café, a cluster of houses, and orchards for as far as he could see. He swallowed as goose-bumps lifted his skin. A community. A place where families grew up. Families like Max Brown’s. Max was Abigail’s father and had raised four children in this district, had buried his wife here, lost his son in a tragic accident, welcomed his granddaughter. And his grandson. Don’t forget Seamus, his brain nagged.
His son. As if he could forget the boy. Even when he tried to, the unsettling situation remained firmly fixed in his mind.
Kieran pulled off the road in front of the sign, the engine of his hired car idling. His hands were slick with sweat, and he rubbed them down his jeans. In a few minutes he’d meet his son for the first time. His gut clenched, his breathing became shallow. It wasn’t too late to turn back to the apartment.
To be sure, Abigail would understand. Who was he fooling? A family girl through and through, she might think she understood his struggle with coming face to face with Seamus for the first time, but she’d be wide of the mark. Abby didn’t know he had nothing to offer apart from money. For him to give unconditional love to a small child was the same as someone trying to breathe without lungs. Impossible.
No way would Abigail comprehend how different his life had been from hers. She had roots here, while, with his father in the diplomatic service, the world had been Kieran’s community. Boarding schools and sterile apartments in countless cities hadn’t given him a sense of belonging anywhere.
What had it been like for Abigail, growing up here? When she’d left home she’d crossed the orchard and moved into the cottage that used to belong to her brother and his wife and which was now held in trust for Olivia. A narrow life? Or a free, all-encompassing way to live? At least she knew where she belonged. She had somewhere to return to, people to turn to, whenever life went belly up.
Abigail. Twice at the airport while they had been administering to Stokes he’d called her Abby. He didn’t know why but until then he’d always used her full name. Except that night when they’d made love. Then Abigail had seemed wrong for the passionate woman in his arms, stroking his body, revitalising his jaded outlook on life, and making him briefly question his lifestyle.
Kieran nodded at the sign. HOPE. Could that be the peculiar sensation tapping under his ribs? Did this place hold the answers to all those emotions he was afraid to face? Warmth trickled through him. Odd, when he should’ve been feeling a chill at the thought.
Checking the road was clear, he pulled out and headed towards Abigail’s house. To his future? Or to trouble? Only time would tell. All he could be sure of was that he was about to meet his son.
As he turned into Abigail’s road his stomach did such violent flips he thought he would be sick. A thin line of sweat rolled down past his jaw. His teeth clenched, aching.
Get a grip. He could not be seen to be failing at this first encounter. Damn it, he was thirty-five years old, a doctor, a man who’d stood up to drunken thugs on a Friday night in the emergency department. He would not be bested by a fifteen-month-old toddler.
Says who?
‘Welcome to Rose Cottage.’ Abigail opened the narrow gate at the end of a footpath leading to a small weatherboard house.
‘Thank you. Were you waiting out here for me?’ Kieran reached for the gate, his hand inadvertently brushing against hers. The brief touch sent a zing up his arm and into his already fried brain. One innocent little touch and he dropped further out of his depth.
‘Not quite. Olivia’s so excited about you coming and I caught her on the roadside, trying to look for you. I figured a game on the lawn might distract her.’ Abby pointed to a little girl charging along the path in their direction. ‘Here she comes now.’
Kieran let the gate slam behind him. Then promptly leaned against it for strength. Pain stabbed his chest as he watched this bundle of arms and legs and dark curls hurtling towards him. His sister as a child. Memories swamped him. Frightened him. It had been his fault Morag had had an accident and ruined her career. And this little girl was the spitting image of his sister. Was he a danger to her, too?
Shaking his head to dispel the stranglehold these thoughts had on him, he tried to move. Couldn’t. Paralysed by memories evoked by a three-year-old. Him! Dr Flynn. Dr Cool, Calm and Collected. Mr Charming with the ladies. What could he possibly say to Olivia?
Olivia didn’t suffer the same problem. ‘Uncle Kieran, Uncle Kieran, here I am.’
Uncle. His mouth fell open. Uncle. He swallowed around the ache in his throat. He was an uncle. Here was the living proof.
Thump. She slammed into his knees, her arms reaching for him. Was he supposed to pick her up? Hug her? Hesitantly he leaned down and lifted her up to hold her warm body against his trembling frame, his arm muscles tense. She was warm and soft and unable to stay still. Her fingers touched his face and he jerked his head back, stunned at the unexpected contact. Slowly he let his head fall forward again. Thankfully Olivia was turning around in his arms, grabbing at his hands, still making him feel totally lost.
Abigail watched them in that enigmatic way of hers. Did she find him lacking? She’d have to give him time to become familiar with his role in Olivia’s life. Would two months be enough to learn the art of being an uncle? A good uncle? Not to mention being a father. How did one go about being a father? He had no idea. And had no intention of learning.
Where was Seamus? Looking around, he couldn’t see a toddler anywhere. He felt weird, disorientated, expecting to see his son. And now, with Olivia in his arms, everything as he knew it was unravelling. What used to be real for him had become a murky picture in his head. In the short space of time it had taken to get from his car to holding Olivia, his comfortable life seemed to be changing. That was plain scary. His mouth dried. Terrifying, really. He did not want his life to change. He loved it exactly as it had been until this moment.
Focus on Olivia. She, he might be able to handle. If he had a fairy godmother hovering overhead. ‘Olivia’s full of energy,’ he said lamely.
‘Amazing what the promise of a visit from Uncle Kieran does.’ Abby finally gave him a full-blown, power-packed smile that sent all thoughts of children miles from his mind. Sweet longing for that special connection they’d once known shot down to his toes. He’d missed her. The knowledge slammed through him, rocked him back on his heels. He had missed her. It couldn’t be possible after such a short liaison. But he found no other explanation for the hollow feeling in his chest. He’d missed Abby, and now he was with her he felt the ground rolling under his feet. Was it too late to pull out of his contract and return to Dublin?
Sticky hands again touched his face. ‘Do you like me, Uncle Kieran?’
Kieran gulped, refocused on his niece. ‘Absolutely, Princess.’ And to his surprise he found he meant it. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Abby, he likes me.’
‘Of course. Who wouldn’t?’
Abby slipped past them, her hip brushing against him, tightening the longing that threatened to unravel his precarious rein on his emotions. Had to be the jet-lag. Or the shock of seeing Olivia after all this time. Or the apprehension about coming face to face with his son. This odd sensation of drowning in need-filled sweetness couldn’t have anything to do with Abby. Abigail. Stick to calling her Abigail and he might be able to banish thoughts of that night they’d shared.
He followed her, his lively bundle twisting and turning in his arms as they walked down a path overgrown with roses. As Abigail entered the house she turned back to him. ‘Seamus is with Dad, having a ride on the tractor.’
Kieran swallowed a tug of disappointment. Ha, gotcha. You were looking forward to seeing your son for the first time. He gulped, checked to see if Abigail had noticed.
She winked at him. ‘Seamus will be driving before he can talk at this rate. Dad spends hours taking him for rides on either the four-wheel bike or tractor.’
‘But he’s only one. Surely it’s not very safe for someone that young.’ Worry flared. This was his son they were talking about.
Abigail looked at him as though she knew exactly what he was thinking, and a triumphant smile lifted her mouth. ‘Dad drives so slowly snails pass them. He also straps Seamus into a harness fitted to him, otherwise I’d be the first to stop them.’
‘I guess you would.’ He didn’t doubt she’d be a very responsible parent. His concern ebbed. He shouldn’t be worrying, that was Abigail’s job.
She twisted away on her feet. ‘Come inside. Make yourself at home.’ Then she smiled over her shoulder at the girl he held. ‘Bath time, missy.’
‘I don’t want one,’ Olivia answered from the safety of his arms.
‘Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Abigail stood with one hand on her hip. ‘The only time you like water is when it’s in a muddy puddle.’
Kieran asked Olivia, ‘Don’t you want to be clean for me?’
‘No.’
‘Do you want Uncle Kieran to bath you?’
What? Did he get any say in this? He wouldn’t know where to start when it came to bathing small children.
It was time he went back to town and the relative safety of his apartment. A haven from his niece and her expectations of him.
‘I want Abby to bath me.’
Relief poured through his tense muscles as he put Olivia down. Warily he followed her through the house. What would it be like to share bathtimes with your kids? It might be fun.
Whoa. Back up. Bathing a child meant getting involved and he didn’t do involvement. Funny how his resolve seemed to be slipping away so fast within hours of arriving. If he had already started wondering about bathtime, what would he be doing by the end of his two-month spell here? He had to remain focused on the purpose of his visit, which was to run ED, not to become enmeshed in this family.
‘If you want a glass of wine or a beer, you’ll find some at the back of the fridge, top shelf.’ Abby swung Olivia up into her arms in a graceful movement that drew his eyes to her curves.
Abigail. Her name was Abigail. So what if today she walked and talked more like an Abby? Looking nothing like the slim, almost anorexic women he usually dated, her height and voluptuousness fascinated him. The night of passion they’d shared in Dublin still slammed into his head at the most unexpected moments. Often in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep he’d think of the Kiwi woman who’d shared his grief in the most intimate way imaginable. Her brother, his sister. Both gone, all because of a teenager who’d thought driving his mother’s car would be easy. Abigail’s big, sad eyes had drawn him to her and, like an alcoholic to the bottle, he’d had to have her.
It hadn’t been enough. It should’ve been. He didn’t do commitment. Commitment meant love, and Abigail was the kind of woman that eventually would want, would deserve, commitment and love. He couldn’t give any woman love. Abigail hadn’t grown up learning the hard lessons about relationships that he had got from his father. Thankfully, Morag, being the apple of their father’s eye, hadn’t suffered the knocks he had, hadn’t grown the hard shell around her heart that he had.
Stop the thinking. Grab a beer and relax. As the cool liquid rolled across his tongue he looked around. Abby had created a cosy atmosphere, perfect for young children. The bright blues and apricots on the walls and in the furnishings were warm and vibrant. Just like the woman herself. The furniture had seen better days so she obviously didn’t use the money he sent on anything other than Olivia. If she used it at all. It occurred to him that she mightn’t have touched a single cent.
But this was all about the children. What about Abigail? Surely she got lonely for adult company at night? He was assuming she spent the nights alone, but was probably wrong.
Piercing giggles coming from somewhere along the short hallway drew his attention. Before he could think about what he was doing he followed the sound. Stopping in the bathroom doorway, he leaned against the doorjamb and watched Abby bath Olivia. He had to swallow hard to get the next mouthful of beer past the lump in his throat. The bath was filled with soap bubbles, and Abby wore her share of them on her cheeks and forehead. She looked gorgeous.
He cleared his throat. ‘If Olivia gets this much fun out of a bath then I can’t begin to imagine her excitement in those puddles you mentioned.’
‘It gets fairly messy.’ Abby tugged a towel from the rail and lifted a protesting Olivia out of the water. ‘Let’s get you dry, little missy. Seamus will be here in a minute and he’ll need scrubbing from top to toe.’
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