The Nurse's Secret

‘Where else would I be headed?’

Noah realised he was out of his depth here. He wasn’t a parent rushing to his injured daughter. Squeezing Stacey’s hand, he said nothing more, but he didn’t stop thinking about Stacey and the pain she was going through. If only he could take it away—or take it on himself. But all he could do was be there for her, and in a few minutes she’d have her family surrounding her and he’d become redundant.

I don’t want that.

The idea of being left out in the cold already made him shiver. Anastasia had got to him far more than he’d been prepared to admit. Today, seeing her agony, had woken him up, despite his misgivings about why she hadn’t talked about Holly. Bottom line, he could no longer deny she was becoming important to him.

‘Hurry up,’ Stacey yelled at the slowly opening sliding doors at the entrance to the emergency room. She pushed through, still dragging him along, and headed to the reception desk. ‘I’m Stacey Wainwright. My daughter, Holly, has been brought in by ambulance in the last twenty minutes,’ she snapped.

Her hand was trembling in his. He stepped nearer. ‘Steady.’

The woman behind the counter was looking at the screen in front of her. ‘Holly Wainwright, date of birth?’

Noah listened as Stacey gave Holly’s birth date. The door beside them clicked as the lock opened. ‘Go through.’

Holly was two? That meant she’d been conceived after their night together. So there had been someone else, despite her denial. Not much dating, she’d said, but it only took once to get pregnant. His feet were leaden as he walked beside her. She’d become a mother since he’d first known her. That was hard to accept. As if he’d been abstaining throughout those years. There hadn’t been cause to, but neither had he had many dates.

But— But he was being arrogant. She was entitled to live her life however she wanted, and he certainly couldn’t complain. She’d said she was single, so he didn’t have to walk away without seeing if they’d be a match. He just had to get over himself.

‘Dad,’ Stacey shrieked, pulling away from him and racing to the man standing by a cubicle. ‘Where’s Holly?’

The composed nurse he knew had flown out the window. Which warmed him. This was the Anastasia he’d always wanted to believe in. Nothing like his cold uncle and aunt. He’d at first tried to deny Stacey’s loving warmth because that meant letting her in more than she’d already managed to get.

Her father nodded to the bed beyond the curtains, and Stacey disappeared out of sight.

Stepping up to the man, Noah put his hand out. ‘I’m Noah Kennedy. Anastasia was with me when her mother phoned about the accident.’

The guy glanced at his daughter and then looked hard at him, a question in his gaze. The question slipped away, replaced with welcome. Finally he shook Noah’s hand. ‘Yes, we knew who she’d gone to see. Nice to meet you, Noah. I’m Ian Wainwright, and this...’ he turned slightly ‘...is my wife, Stacey’s mum, Judy. And our son, Toby.’

Judy was staring at him, caution couldn’t be more direct on her face. Why were these two so wary about a man their daughter had been out with that morning? Were they overly protective? It wasn’t his place to comment, and he could be totally off track about this family. Anastasia never spoke of them without love. Did she know how lucky she was? Yes, she probably did. He held his hand out to Judy. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs Wainwright.’

The woman before him blinked, also looked at her daughter before coming back to him and taking his hand in hers briefly. ‘Hello, Noah. Thank you for getting Stacey here so quickly.’

Noah managed a small laugh. ‘Anyone would have done the same.’ Then he turned to look at Stacey, and his heart stuttered.

She was sprawled on the very edge of the bed, her hand holding her daughter’s and wearing a strained smile. ‘Darling, it’s Mummy. I’m here, baby.’ She was blinking rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay.

The girl was tiny in the large bed, her face abnormally pale with streaks of dried blood from her forehead staining her cheeks, and her eyes were closed, long, dark lashes black on that wan skin. She looked so fragile Noah felt his heart crack. For Stacey, and Holly.

Someone cleared his throat. ‘Excuse me, I’m Dr Robinson. Harry Robinson. I’ve arranged for a CT scan of Holly’s head,’ he said directly to Anastasia. ‘The paramedic said she was in and out of consciousness on the way here, and so far she’s not responding to anything. I’ll explain all the scenarios to you. She’s also broken her arm, though an X-ray will confirm that.’

Judy said, ‘Stacey’s a nurse. She’ll know what’s going on.’

Stacey’s head whipped up. ‘Right now I’m a mother, not a nurse.’ She nodded to Harry Robinson. ‘Talk to Noah. He’s a doctor. He can tell me what I need to know.’ And she went back to gazing at her daughter, imploring silently for her to wake up.

Noah wanted to hug them both, hold them until this nightmare was over and they could all go home. Instead, he straightened his shoulders and faced the other doctor. ‘Harry, tell me what you know.’

They stepped aside and instantly Stacey’s parents moved up to the bed, where Judy began smoothing Stacey’s hair with long strokes that spoke of love.

Noah watched them as he listened to Harry.

‘Certainly concussion. I’m worried there might be swelling on the brain. The non-response has gone on too long.’

‘Given she’s only two, that might work in her favour, keep her still while everything settles down.’ But the idea of brain trauma made him ill. This was Anastasia’s daughter, she didn’t need anything so awful happening to her girl. No parent did. But today, with the woman he was beginning to care too much for, it went beyond his normal horrified reaction for any parent whose child was suffering. He didn’t want Holly injured. He didn’t want Anastasia suffering for her daughter. They didn’t deserve this.

Somehow he managed to listen to all the details Harry gave him. Stacey was right. It was different when the patient was close to you, and though Holly wasn’t his daughter and he’d never met her, he felt a part of this family at the moment.

‘I hope you’re right,’ Harry muttered. ‘As soon as the scan’s done she’ll be admitted to the paediatric ward. Kathryn Cross has been alerted and is on her way in.’

Some relief filtered into the muddle in Noah’s head. ‘I hear she’s good.’

‘Better than good. Her reputation’s stellar.’

‘Glad she’s on Holly’s side then.’ A bed was being rolled along towards them. ‘This for Holly?’

Harry glanced around. ‘Stacey, the porter’s here to take Holly to Radiology. You go with her, and then on to the paediatric ward and a family room.’

The look Stacey gave the poor man said no one would’ve been able to stop her. ‘My family will come, too.’ No question about that either. Then she looked to him, a query in her face.

‘You want me there?’ Noah asked. He still had to tell her what Harry had said regarding Holly’s injuries.

‘Yes.’ She looked away, and back at him, a stricken expression on her face. ‘Sorry. You do whatever suits you. I’m going with Holly. But...’ She swallowed and nodded. ‘I’d like you to stay around with us.’

‘I’ll be waiting outside Radiology.’ He had no idea why this was important to him. He wasn’t even going to start trying to figure it out. Chances were he’d be wrong. Stacey telling Harry to talk to him had made him a part of this family’s problem, their fears, and he wanted to be there with them. Especially for Stacey.

Just like that he felt he belonged, if only for a few hours, and it gave him a deep sense of homecoming. Which was absurd. He didn’t know these people, and one look at Stacey and Holly and deep inside there was a softening of the hopelessness he’d known most of his life, a sense of finally finding what he’d been looking for. From the moment he’d walked up to her on the da

nce floor there’d been a connection he’d never found before, a connection that simply wasn’t going away.

One night had been all it had taken to mark him for ever. She’d been generous in her lovemaking, fun and open, and so damned special it was a constant ache in his heart.

Now she was on the other side of the door into Radiology with her heart breaking as she watched over her little girl fighting to regain consciousness. Anastasia was a mother. It didn’t change how he felt about her. He only wished he’d known sooner.

What difference would that have made?

He would’ve still reacted the same way to seeing her that first morning on the ward. He’d still have smelt citrus perfume, been drawn in by her beautiful face, known how those curves felt on his palms.

Some things couldn’t be changed. Best he accept it and get on with supporting Anastasia as much as she let him.