A Mother for His Baby

‘Jo. Good to have you back.’ Monica looked slightly harassed. ‘I take it you’ve heard the news about Ralph?’

Jo nodded. ‘Angelo filled me in. I wanted to look over the new doctor’s CV before my meeting with him. Do you have it handy?’

Monica picked up some paperwork from the in-tray. ‘Yes, I do. Come through. It’s good they found a suitable replacement so quickly,’ she said, unlocking her cabinet and handing Jo the file. ‘The place couldn’t function indefinitely with one doctor down. The workload would be difficult to say the least.’

‘It certainly would,’ Jo agreed. ‘Talking about workloads, I’d better check on my patient list.’

Jo’s first patient for the day was Nora Burows. The elderly lady had an extremely fair complexion and years of working outdoors on the family farm had resulted in severe sun damage to her face and arms. Nora was listed for an excision of a scaly lesion on the side of her throat.

With the rate of skin cancer in Australia the highest in the world, Jo wasn’t about to take any chances. She’d need to send a sample of the damaged skin to the lab. A biopsy would be carried out and hopefully, for her patient’s sake, would return a benign result.

But the depletion of the ozone layers around the world was a real concern. Jo guessed in the not-too-distant future medical officers would be seeing a dramatic increase in the incidence of melanomas.

She buzzed through to their practice nurse in the treatment room. ‘Marika, has Mrs Burows arrived yet?’

‘I have her settled and we’re ready to go when you are.’

‘Right. I’m on my way.’

Jo pushed back the pale blue curtain and greeted her patient, who was lying on the treatment couch. ‘Good morning, Nora. Ready for your op?’

‘As I’ll ever be, Doctor.’ Nora’s lashes around her pale blue eyes fluttered briefly.

‘Now, you haven’t got yourself all worked up, have you? We’ve been through a few of these together.’

Nora’s throat convulsed as she swallowed. ‘Doesn’t make it any easier, though, Dr Rutherford.’

‘I know.’ Jo patted her shoulder. ‘So, we’ll get rid of this nasty little number for you and you can be on your way.’

Jo double-checked her patient’s notes. Nora’s blood pressure was a touch low but otherwise she enjoyed reasonable health.

‘Right, let’s get started. Would you drape, please, Marika?’

Gowned and gloved, Jo expertly drew up lignocaine and slowly began infiltrating the skin around the lesion. ‘This will pack quite a strong effect, Nora,’ she warned. ‘You’ll feel some numbing around your ear and lower jaw.’ While she waited for the local to take effect, Jo became aware of Nora’s sudden rapid breathing and felt a tinge of alarm. ‘Are you OK under there, Nora?’

‘I don’t think I am, Doctor. My tummy’s all queasy…’

‘Marika, get her feet up, please,’ Jo directed sharply.

In a second Marika had slid several pillows under Nora’s lower legs and begun to sponge her face.

‘Your body is reacting to the anaesthetic, Nora,’ Jo said gently. ‘Did you eat breakfast?’

‘Just a cup of tea.’

‘Perhaps your blood sugar’s a bit low. Just take some deep breaths and try to relax. That’s good, sweetheart. There’s no hurry. We’ll wait until you’re feeling OK again.’

Nora was still shaky when the procedure was finished. ‘Lie there for a while,’ Jo instructed, ‘and then Marika will help you sit up. But very slowly, mind. And dangle your legs over the side for a while until you’re feeling stronger. Now, is someone with you?’

Nora clasped her thin hands across her chest. ‘My daughter’s outside in the waiting room.’

‘Good. I think we’ll get her to come in and sit with you while you recover.’ Jo looked keenly down at her patient. She was still pale. ‘I’m sorry this one took a bit longer than usual, Nora.’ Jo stripped off her gloves. ‘It had spread further than I thought.’

Nora moistened dry lips. ‘I…will be all right, though, won’t I?’

‘I’ll have the result of the biopsy in a few days.’ Jo avoided answering directly. There was no point in alarming her patient unnecessarily. ‘And I’ll see you in a week to have the stitches out.’

Jo was already running behind time. ‘Same old, same old,’ she murmured, going out to Reception to call in her next patient.

She worked slowly through her list and by twelve-thirty she’d begun to wonder how on earth she was going to make the staff meeting on time.

Then the fates looked kindly on her. Vicki popped her head in. ‘Toni Morris just cancelled, Jo. Said her little one’s feeling much better. Thinks it was just a twenty-four-hour bug. He’s had a light meal, kept it down and is looking brighter.’

Jo pushed her chair back and stretched. ‘Excellent. Thanks, Vic.’

Vicki departed with a fluttered wave and Jo swung to her feet and walked to the window. Her consulting room was at the rear of the sprawling low-set building and she loved the view. It was the first week of September and spring had come with a burst of colour. Jo noticed even the old mango tree was drooping with blossoms, ensuring a bumper feast of the tropical fruit for the long hot summer ahead.

How I love this place, she thought, her gaze stretching across to the paddocks already knee-deep in summer crops of baby corn, melons and tomatoes. She shook her head. Why did she have the feeling that everything was about to change?

She turned as her phone rang. It was Angelo, straight to the point.

‘Had time to look over Brady’s CV yet, Jo?’

Jo stole a guilty look at her watch. ‘Just about to. I’ve been flat to the boards.’

‘Me, too. See you in a bit, then.’

‘Yes.’ So much for holidays, she thought dryly, clipping the receiver back on its rest. She was beginning to feel she’d never been away.

Collecting the file Monica had given her, she dropped back into the chair. ‘OK, Brady McNeal,’ she murmured, ‘let’s see what you have to offer.’

With the file on the desk in front of her, Jo leaned forward. In a reflex action she shielded her eyes. It felt odd to be reading the man’s very personal background information. Odd and strangely intrusive.

Well, there was nothing she could do about it, she rationalised.

And the further she read, the more she realised Brady McNeal seemed a very good choice for their particular needs. Or was her judgment being clouded by the fact she’d already interacted with the man?

And been attracted.

She took a deep breath, feeling the swirl of mixed emotions well up like a balloon inside her chest.

* * *

Jo ran a brush through her hair and added a dash of lipstick, before joining the others in the staffroom for their working lunch.

With quiet efficiency, Monica had set out sandwiches and a fruit platter and topped up the coffee-maker in readiness. ‘There’s hot water in the vacuum jug if anyone wants to make tea,’ she said.

‘Oh, yes, please, Monica.’ Jo got down a mug and broke open a new packet of teabags.

‘One for me too, please, Jo, while you’re there.’

Jo heard Ralph Mitchell’s voice rumble from the doorway, and smiled. ‘Coming up. Angelo?’

‘Coffee for me, thanks. I’ll get it. Anyone seen Tom?’

‘Someone taking my name in vain?’ Tom Yardley, the fourth doctor in the practice, catapulted in, dumped several files on the table and whooped, ‘Jo! Nice to have you back with us, babe.’

Jo made a face at the fair-haired young man and then grinned. ‘Nice to be back.’ She liked Tom. He was young, only twenty-nine, but already he was shaping up as an excellent GP. He’d been reared in the district and his parents were still teaching at the local high school. He loved being home again but, of course, these days he had his own place.

‘I want to thank you all for being so proactive about this situation,’ Ralph said quietly, a bit later, as the doctors sat around the table. ‘I hadn’t mentioned it before because I didn’t want to put more pressure on you to find a new partner, but one of our grandsons has been diagnosed with leukaemia.’

There was a hush around the table. Then Jo said softly, ‘I’m so sorry, Ralph.’

‘That goes for all of us, mate.’ Angelo looked shaken.

Tom had reined in his usual hearty manner to convey earnestly, ‘If they’ve managed to zap it early, the prognosis for childhood leukaemia is very positive these days.’

‘We’re hanging onto that.’ Ralph’s face worked for a second. ‘And Michael is a stoic little chap. Came through his first lot of chemo pretty well. And the staff at the Mater Children’s are nothing short of brilliant.’

‘So, I imagine you and Lilian will want to get away as soon as possible…’ Jo felt a hard lump in her chest and gripped her tea-mug tightly.

Ralph nodded. ‘We’d like to be some support for the parents, of course. There are two younger kiddies. And Karen and Steve naturally want to spend as much time at the hospital with Michael as they can.’

‘In that case, don’t feel you have to stick around to mentor Brady,’ Angelo said decisively. ‘I’m sure between the lot of us, plus Monica, we can get him up to speed and feeling a part of the practice in no time.’

‘Not than we won’t miss you greatly, Ralph.’ Jo bit the inside of her bottom lip. In reality, she hated the thought of Ralph leaving. He’d been the anchor at the Mt Pryde medical centre for ages. And whether the staff realised it or not, they all in some way depended on his quiet wisdom and the gentle way he handled matters.

The thought of Brady McNeal, with all his unknown quantities, replacing him was suddenly leaving Jo feeling very unsettled.

As if he’d gauged her thoughts, Ralph linked the medical team with his kind blue gaze. ‘I’d like to think the Mt Pryde practice will go on providing quality care for its patients and I know you’ll all do your utmost to help Brady settle in. I understand you’re giving him a hand to find some suitable care for his son, Jo?’

Jo’s mouth turned down at the corners. ‘Until I know exactly what kind of hours and so on he’ll need, I can’t really organise anything. But I will ring around this afternoon and at least get a feel for what’s available.’

‘A family day care mother might be his best shot,’ Tom offered.

‘Maybe.’ Jo took a steadying breath. ‘Dr McNeal may have some ideas of his own.’ Well, she hoped he would. ‘We’ll see later this afternoon, when he gets here.’

Angelo’s dark brows peaked. ‘And having read his CV, Jo, do you have any reservations about Brady’s appointment?’

‘He seems well rounded,’ Jo said carefully. ‘Obviously his experience in rural medicine will stand him in good stead here. And if you all think personality-wise he’ll fit in…?’

‘I had a long chat to him.’ Ralph sought to put Jo’s uncertainties to rest. ‘I think he’ll be very co-operative and he wants to make a home here. That should make all the difference to our acceptance of him and he of us—if that makes sense.’ The senior doctor sent a wry smile around the table.

‘All the sense in the world,’ Angelo concurred heartily. ‘And now, Ralph, I know the circumstances of your leaving aren’t ideal but you can’t slope off without a farewell of some kind.’

‘There’s really no need—’ Ralph’s mild protest was howled down immediately. ‘Well, all right, then. Thank you all very much. I know Lilian will appreciate it.’

‘Good, that’s settled, then.’ Angelo drained his coffee. ‘We’ll fit in with you and Lilian. When do you think?’

‘We should have our packing finalised by the end of next week,’ Ralph said.

‘Let’s say Saturday evening of next week, then? At our place. Pen and I will barbecue. It might be a good chance for Brady to mingle socially as well.’

* * *

With her usual care, Jo worked through her patient list after lunch. But as three o’clock approached, she found her heart was all but leapfrogging in her chest.

She was being ridiculous, she berated herself, especially when she recalled that after she’d read Brady’s CV, she’d actually considered calling him on his mobile number and sorting out the fact they’d already met.

And then she’d reminded herself that they were to be colleagues, nothing more, and there was no reason for her to get out there and personal about the man.

Yet, minutes later, when Vicki tapped on her door, popped her head in and said, ‘Dr McNeal’s here,’ Jo sprang to her feet as if a fire-cracker had gone off in her consulting room.

‘He apologises for being a bit early,’ Vicki said. ‘And guess what?’ The receptionist’s voice rose to an excited squeak.

Jo blinked. ‘What?’

‘He’s got his baby with him!’

A baby. A baby! Brady McNeal had a baby, when all the time she’d thought of his son in terms of kindergarten age, a little boy of three or four. But a baby.

‘Come on.’ Vicki was beckoning enthusiastically. ‘He’s adorable.’

Almost dazedly, Jo followed Vicki along the corridor to Reception, only to find Marika and Monica and even several of the female patients from the waiting room gathered in a fluttering little huddle to admire baby McNeal, who was gazing up, wide-eyed, from his carry-capsule.

Oh, lord. Jo swallowed. They’d all gone mad. She felt like clapping her hands like the nuns from her school days to restore some order to the surgery.

But she didn’t. Instead, she found a tiny gap in the circle and looked down at the baby boy.

And fell instantly in love.

Oh, my…Jo clenched a hand over her heart, marvelling at the completeness of him, the utter perfection of tiny fingers, cute little ears and button nose. A rush of very mixed emotions engulfed her and words she wasn’t even aware of saying tumbled out. ‘Aren’t you beautiful?’

‘Ooh…’ Collective female sighs went round the circle. ‘He’s smiling.’

‘He likes you, Jo.’ Vicki squeezed her arm, her expression all soft and mushy. ‘Just look at him, the pet…’

Jo looked. And looked again. And then got a grip on herself. She tugged Monica aside. ‘Where’s Dr McNeal now?’

‘Tying up the paperwork with Angelo,’ Monica said absently, her gaze winging back to the baby as if drawn by an invisible thread. She sighed reminiscently. ‘We haven’t had a baby in the practice since Jane and Riley left with their little Kiara Rose.’

All that had been before her time. Jo looked distractedly around. The baby was lovely but this was supposed to be a medical practice, not a crèche. Someone had to break up the party.

‘Right, let’s get back to work, everyone.’ Surprisingly, it was Vicki, taking over and sounding quite professional about it. ‘Dr Rutherford, I have you all set up in the staff-room. So let’s get this little guy back to his dad, shall we?’ So saying, she gathered up the capsule by its handles and wafted ahead of Jo along the corridor.

Feeling pulled every which way, Jo turned, following a pace behind. She felt in shock. Almost. And nothing was going to plan. Nothing. Who could she get to look after a baby full time? A baby.

She didn’t have much time to think about it. From his consulting room at the other end of the corridor, Angelo emerged with Brady. Their heads were turned towards each other and they were obviously deep in conversation.

And they hadn’t seen her. Thanking all the saints in heaven, Jo darted ahead of Vicki into the staffroom, holding the door open for her to angle the capsule through. And berating herself for her loony behaviour. She should have waited beside the door and greeted Brady politely and professionally. Instead, she went to the window and looked out—at nothing.

‘Come on, now, pumpkin.’ Expertly, Vicki lifted the baby from his capsule. ‘Let’s go meet your daddy, shall we? Just buzz me if you need anything, Jo.’

‘Thanks…I will,’ Jo croaked.

It was only a few seconds then until Angelo and Brady McNeal stopped at the open doorway. Seconds when Jo felt every nerve-end stretched tightly.

‘Jo will look after you now,’ she heard Angelo say, and then Brady had taken a step inside and Jo turned to face him, her arms linked defensively across her midriff. She blinked and something shifted inside her as she took in the tender picture of Brady and his infant son.

He held him close, tucked into the crook of his arm, one large, masculine hand cradling his son’s tiny feet. And they looked so right together. Already a family. Jo felt a wash of emotion she couldn’t explain.

‘Jo.’ Brady’s mouth made a brief twist of acknowledgement.

‘Hello, Brady.’ She gave a stilted laugh. ‘This is all a bit odd, isn’t it? I mean, the way we met and neither of us knowing we were about to become work colleagues.’

‘Maybe it was kismet, then?’

Fate? Maybe it was and maybe it wasn’t. She gave him a taut smile.

Brady’s gaze sharpened. ‘Angelo put me right about everything. So, no surprises and no harm done. And it is good to see you again. I’m sure we’ll work well together, aren’t you?’

Jo nodded. ‘Of course.’ It would have been entirely unprofessional to have said otherwise. ‘Shall we get settled, then? I believe you’re going to need some child care.’

‘Ah…yes.’ Brady shifted his weight slightly as he turned and placed his son back in his capsule. ‘What are my chances, do you think?’

‘Not sure, really,’ Jo said. They pulled out chairs and made themselves comfortable at one end of the long table. ‘For some reason, I expected an older child.’

Brady frowned and she guessed he was puzzled by her assumption. ‘I don’t recall I gave that impression at the interview.’

‘No…well…’ Jo lifted a shoulder dismissively. ‘It’s immaterial now. Let’s get a few details, shall we? How old is the baby?’

‘AJ is six months.’

‘AJ?’ Jo’s eyes widened in query.

‘Andrew James,’ Brady enlightened. ‘I named him after my father and grandfather. But we shortened it to save confusion. I wouldn’t have brought him with me today, except for a few unforeseen circumstances. Normally my mother would have been able to take care of him, but unfortunately she had other commitments today.’

Jo absorbed the information with a nod. ‘Do you need to give Andrew a bottle or anything?’

‘No…’ Brady’s look softened. ‘He’s not due for a while.’

Jo looked thoughtful. He seemed at ease in his role of sole parent, but surely there would have been times, like now, for instance, when he must feel the strain of it. Something propelled her to say, ‘It must have been a bit hair-raising, embarking on the long flight from Canada with such a young child.’

His eyes glinted and a quick frown marked his forehead. ‘Your point being?’

Jo was taken aback. He was almost bristling with defensiveness. Obviously he thought she was questioning his capability as a parent. Well, if he chose to take things the wrong way, that was his problem. She hadn’t wanted to be put in this position of trying to organise his child care.

She pinned his gaze, her own firing green sparks. ‘I’m not making any particular point. The only concern I have is for Andrew’s care to go smoothly. Can I take it you’re the one making the decisions?’

He huffed a bitter laugh. ‘If you’re worried his mother will turn up and cause a ruckus with the arrangements, don’t. Tanya is out of the picture. I have legal custody of my son.’

Jo was shocked at the sudden locked-down expression on his face, and her own anger vanished like leaves in the wind. The man was obviously toting a massive load of emotional baggage.

In a split second she wondered why on earth she felt the insane desire to help him carry it.

But before she could form any words, Brady dropped back in his chair with a muted ‘Oh, hell.’ Stabbing a hand through his hair, he met her eyes with a crooked and repentant smile. ‘I didn’t mean to snap at you, Jo. Can we start again?’

She hesitated a moment, her even white teeth rolling over the corner of her bottom lip, unable to believe the sudden crazy need she felt to make things right for him and his son. ‘Fine with me.’

His ‘Thank you’ was heartfelt, and as Jo looked at him across the desk, their eyes met and held and she felt the instant shock of it shimmer right up her spine.

Sweet God. Brady blinked and blinked again. It was like being struck by lightning. Silver-green lightning, lancing through him and anchoring him to the chair. With a little grimace he dragged his eyes away and gave himself a mental kick in the backside. This was no time to be indulging in fantasies. For now his priorities had to be elsewhere, with his baby…

‘So,’ Jo was asking, ‘are you expecting any separation trauma when you have to leave your son?’

He slammed back to reality. ‘For my part, certainly. I’ll miss him like crazy. But AJ should be fine. He’s been in and out of child care practically since day one. If all else fails and I can’t get a carer, my mother will come down in a temporary capacity until I get things sorted. My work won’t suffer,’ he added tersely.

Did it appear as though she’d thought otherwise? He’d wrong-footed her again but she ploughed on. ‘I don’t imagine you’d have taken the job without considering all the implications. And there may be someone suitable…’

He lifted a hand, his fingers scraping roughly over his chin. ‘Sorry if I appear abrasive about this. I don’t mean to be.’

With a twitch of her shoulder, Jo shrugged off his apology. ‘Let’s just concentrate on getting a successful outcome for Andrew, shall we?’

He leaned forward earnestly. ‘I really want to make this work. The practice seems just what I’ve been looking for in terms of location and workload, and the town itself is a real gem.’

Jo got right on her hobby-horse. ‘I love it here,’ she confessed. ‘Have you had a good look around?’

‘Mmm.’ More relaxed now, Brady settled back in his chair. ‘The day I came for the interview. I was amazed to find that old-world department store in the main street.’

‘Geraldo’s. Incredible, isn’t it? Been there since the early nineteen hundreds apparently.’

‘And I was intrigued by their motto above the front door…’ Brady’s eyes narrowed as he tried to remember it.

‘“We sell everything from wagon wheels to watermelons”,’ Jo supplied with a soft laugh. ‘But I doubt if they sell watermelons these days. There’s an excellent co-op fruit mart here now.’

‘And a library and art gallery as well.’ Brady added to the list. ‘The hospital isn’t half bad either.’

Jo smiled wryly at that. ‘It has its ups and downs, staff-wise. If you’ve any expertise in any particular discipline, they’ll rope you in.’

‘I’ve done some anaesthetics,’ Brady said modestly.

‘You didn’t want to specialise?’

‘Not really. I much prefer my patients awake and talking. What about you? What do they rope you in for?’

‘I’ve some experience in paeds.’

He nodded. ‘So, would you be prepared to take AJ onto your list?’

She should have seen that coming. Jo gave a half-smile. ‘Seeing you’re a colleague…I take it he’s up to date with his shots and so on?’

‘Yes, Doctor.’

Jo made a face at him. ‘Dads are notorious for forgetting those small details,’ she said lightly.

‘But, then, I think we’ve established I’m no ordinary dad, am I?’

No. She guessed Brady McNeal wasn’t. He appeared to have taken on the Herculean task of being both mother and father to his baby boy. But she didn’t want to go there. There had to be some deep emotional issues swirling around in his past. Very deep. She guessed time would tell whether he would ever be prepared to share them.

‘The lady I have in mind for Andrew is Thea Williams.’ Jo dragged the interview back on track. ‘She normally does fostering or emergency care for kids who for some reason can’t be with their parents. But I know she was the carer for my predecessor’s baby when she wanted to return to work part time. And according to the staff here, Dr Rossiter was very pleased with her.’

Brady’s eyes lit with interest. ‘Your Thea Williams sounds ideal. But I would prefer to keep AJ in his own surroundings, if possible. Would she come to my home each day?’