Mount Mercy - Page 57

He pointed through the open door to the bathroom. “That’s a tap,” he said, pointing to the faucet. “We’re in my flat. You’re a lass.” He rolled us over so that he was on top. “And if we fought, we’d be having a row.” It rhymed with cow.

“Now you’re just making them up,” I told him. My voice had gone high and tight. He’d landed between my legs and he was very naked. We looked at each other and I bit my lip. “What, um...what did you want to teach me?” I asked, shocked at my boldness.

He gave a truly wicked chuckle and ducked his head under the duvet. A split-second later, I cried out and arched my back, clutching at the pillows.

* * *

We didn’t want to leave Krista and Taylor alone at the hospital too long, plus there was no power so no way to cook breakfast and we were both starving. But before we headed out, we had to brave a freezing cold shower.

I endured it for about twenty seconds and then leapt out, naked and shivering, trying to rub some warmth into myself with a towel. It occurred to me that I didn’t have anything to wear except yesterday’s scrubs. There were fresh ones at work but I could do with something to throw on until then, maybe a t-shirt. While Corrigan showered, I had a look in his closet but there were just a few shirts: he’d only partly unpacked. I pulled open a dresser drawer—

Staring up at me was a toy rabbit. A gray one, with pink ears, clearly much loved: I could see where a little hand had crushed its paw tight and where its feet were faded from having been dragged along the ground. Someone had taken this thing everywhere with them.

Rachel.

I heard Corrigan jump out of the shower in a cloud of curses. I quickly shut the drawer, grabbed a shirt from the closet and pulled it on, my heart hammering. I forced a smile onto my face as he walked in but I knew we needed to talk.

He took my hand and we headed out onto Main Street to try to find something to eat. When the daylight hit my face, it reminded me: today’s the day. I had to make the call on whether to operate on Rebecca. I wasn’t any closer to a decision, but I couldn’t put off making it much longer.

Last night’s snow was already being shoveled off the sidewalks and, amazingly, most of the stores had opened for business, using candles for lighting and wood burners for heat. The bank seemed to be closed, but that made sense: without power, their computers would be useless.

The cafe was rammed. Everyone in town was searching for breakfast and the cafe was the one place in town that had a grill fired by propane tanks. “All I can offer you is a table outside,” said Martha, the elderly owner.

It was cold but crisp and we had our thick coats. “We’ll take it,” I said quickly and we sat down before someone else grabbed it, then got our orders in: eggs, bacon and coffee.

A family with two small children took the only other table and my mind snapped back to Rachel’s rabbit. How do you cope? I’d asked him in the pickup. I don’t. The answer hadn’t made sense to me, then, but it did now. That fierce Irish stubbornness I loved so much...it had kept him going but only because he’d refused to accept death’s authority. He hadn’t moved on. He’d spent the time since their deaths treading water, filling his life with the constant adrenaline rush of the ER. And when that wasn’t enough: bars and women and danger, Doctors without Borders and trips to warzones. Oh, Corrigan! I just wanted to hug him. He hasn’t let them go.

My mind followed that to its logical conclusion and I didn’t like it. If he hasn’t let them go...God, he must feel like he’s having to choose, them or me. No wonder he’d seemed so torn, these last few days. The guilt surged up inside me. What the hell do I do?

I didn’t have any answers. I wished my mom was still alive: if I’d ever needed some motherly advice, it was now. But I was going to have to figure it out myself, one day at a time.

One thing couldn’t wait, though. Something I’d seen on the cliff top that I was seeing now through fresh eyes. Something I had to talk to him about. I drew in a big breath of freezing air—

“Um,” I said. Brilliant, Amy.

He frowned at me and waited.

I grabbed his hands to give me strength. “When your hand got caught,” I said, “and the car was going to carry you over the cliff, you said it’s okay. You looked like...you were ready to go.”

Tags: Helena Newbury Romance
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