Their Marriage Miracle

‘How long have you owned the property?’

‘Nearly five years.’ Tom explained, ‘Andy set up a trust and raised an unbelievably huge amount of money. Not just to buy the building, but to help keep the place running.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m still not sure how he managed it, but it was above board and that’s all that bothered me.’

‘Andy? As in Andrew?’ The entrepreneur of Tom’s family, Andrew had got on well with her father. Sometimes she’d wondered if her father thought she’d married the wrong brother.

‘He’s done extremely well for himself over the years.’

‘It seems you have too.’ Despite everything that had happened to Tom, it seemed he’d managed to get his life back on track. ‘I’m really glad for you.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Just because our marriage didn’t work out doesn’t mean I don’t want happiness for you. Or at least a life that fulfils you.’

‘It’s full, that’s for sure.’ Tom gazed around at the immaculate lawns with oak trees lining the perimeter.

But not fulfilled? She wondered about that. She hoped he was happy, while at the same time the thought made her feel even more unsettled about her own future. Get over yourself. Don’t start the ‘what ifs’.

‘When did the hospital become operational?’ she asked. It was a bit awkward getting a conversation flowing, but she’d persevere.

‘My first patient walked through the front door a little over three years ago.’

‘It must have been exciting.’ She wished she’d been here to see it, to share that moment with Tom. Another thing lost because of her stupidity.

‘Incredibly so.’ His fingers drummed the steering wheel. ‘Well worth all the hard work. There were months when I didn’t believe I’d ever see the day this became a fully functioning hospital and not just a dream.’

‘You weren’t working?’

‘Full-time in the paediatric unit at Christchurch Hospital, which is about an hour and a half from here. Close enough to be harassed by builders and tradesmen, but too far to make the travelling back and forth easy.’

‘That sounds exhausting.’ But he’d have managed. This was a man who always focused completely on work, often to the detriment of everything else. Setting up a new facility would have just been another job to see through to the end.

‘Very.’

‘I read an article in a medical journal about the work you’re doing with children and their families coping with chronic diseases. Spending a week here with other similarly afflicted children must have huge benefits for the kids involved. Also for their parents. Getting together with other parents to share experiences must be a tremendous help. You’re earning a superb reputation amongst your peers.’

‘We’re booked up solid for the next six months.’

‘That’s a lot of children you’re helping.’ Tenderness for him slid softly through her. Helping children was what made him tick. And, if he was anything like her since Liam’s death, saving people would have become the prime focus of his life. But he didn’t know about the long, hard years she’d spent working with people in dreadful situations. ‘I think what you’re doing is absolutely wonderful. I’m looking forward to you showing me around.’

Tom stared at her for a long moment. What did he see? The woman she’d become? The pain in the backside she’d used to be? More importantly, would he give her a chance to explain herself? Show him how different she was these days? It suddenly became important that he got to know her again. Then he might begin to see her for the selfless woman she’d become, and not the lost and helpless creature who’d left him. Or the extravagant, spoilt girl he’d first met.

‘You’ll get the tour. Everyone does.’ He looked away, slid the vehicle into gear and drove forward. ‘Did you receive the case notes my secretary prepared for tomorrow’s operating schedule?’

Back to business. She swallowed her disappointment. ‘Yes, they came through late yesterday. I’ve read them thoroughly, and I’ll be taking another look through each one later tonight after I’ve seen my patients. I’ve read enough to answer any worries they or their parents may have. I’d also like to see where I’ll be working before tomorrow, if that’s possible.’

‘Of course.’

A young woman in a nurse’s uniform closed in on Tom as he stepped down from the vehicle. ‘Tom, thank goodness you’re back. Jarrod Harris fell out of a tree just after you left for the airstrip. He’s broken his arm.’

‘What was he doing climbing a tree?’ Even as Tom asked, he began striding towards the hospital.

Fiona followed quickly, almost trotting to keep up as Tom’s long legs stretched out, eating up the ground in his hurry to see his patient. And get away from her?

‘Who’s Jarrod Harris?’ she asked.

‘One of a group of haemophiliac patients staying this week for mentoring, friendship and medical talks,’ Tom explained, before asking the other woman, ‘Where’s everyone?’

‘Kerry’s with Jarrod. The interns went into the village earlier, to pick up a prescription for one of the children at the pharmacy and then on for a coffee. I haven’t called them as I knew you’d be back any moment.’

Tom slowed his pace enough to allow Fiona to catch up for introductions. ‘Stella, this is Fiona Sav—Fraser, the plastic surgeon.’

Fiona saw him blink, nearly trip, when he realised he’d been about to use her married name. She hadn’t gone back to her maiden name, but of course Tom had presumed so. She stared back, trying not to succumb to the wave of anguish spreading through her, bringing an ache in the region of her heart.

She said, ‘Actually, my name’s still Saville.’

It had never crossed her mind to change back to Fraser. That would have been another bond between them broken. It wasn’t as though she’d ever regretted marrying Tom.

He swallowed, then turned to the other woman staring at them both with curiosity scrunching her face. ‘Fiona is my ex-wife.’

Stella gaped. ‘I didn’t know you were divorced.’

‘I’m—we’re not.’

But they’d be getting around to it very soon, Fiona guessed by the startled look in Tom’s eyes. It made perfect sense now that they’d caught up with each other. Why did she feel so sad? Their marriage was long over. But I don’t want a divorce. Which begged the question, what did she want? Her thumb flicked her forefinger. Her heart thumped under her ribs. Definitely not.

Tom continued, oblivious to her feelings, ‘Stella’s our head theatre nurse. If you need to know anything, ask her.’

‘Hello, Stella. I guess that means we’ll be working together this week.’

‘Yes, we will.’ The nurse glanced sideways at her, a multitude of questions racing across her face.

Those questions brought another thought to mind. Had Tom settled down with another woman? Six years was a long time to remain single, especially for a warm, caring man like Tom. Women had always been attracted to him, so it wouldn’t have been hard for him to find someone else. Her heart squeezed tight. Of course she didn’t mind. She would be very happy for him if that was the case. Really. Her hands clenched at her sides. Really.

‘Jarrod’s in the recovery room.’ Stella broke through Fiona’s tumultuous thoughts.

Tom fired questions at his nurse. ‘Any other injuries? Did he knock his head? Lose consciousness? There’ll probably be internal bleeding from landing on the ground.’

‘He’s got a few scratches with light bleeding and says he didn’t hit his head. He seems remarkably happy, as though he’s done nothing wrong climbing that tree.’ Stella’s lips tightened with disapproval.

Fiona followed Tom into the theatre recovery room. A boy of about ten years lay on the bed. A light smattering of blood, which appeared to have come from a deep scratch on his hand, stained his denim jacket and jeans. A woman holding a penlight torch peered under his eyelids.

‘Kerry, thanks for coming in. Any major problems with our lad?’ Tom asked, reaching for an X-ray film lying on the end of the bed.

‘Apart from a broken arm, he’s a very lucky boy. His vitals are good, shock level low.’

The boy grinned, before wincing as pain snagged him. ‘It wasn’t a big tree.’

‘You shouldn’t have been up it at all,’ Tom growled. But understanding lightened his face as he put aside the X-ray to gently palpate Jarrod’s lower left arm.

Tom looked to Fiona. ‘Looks like our tour is on hold.’ He nodded to the woman with the penlight. ‘Kerry’s one of our anaesthetists. Kerry, this is Fiona Fraser, the plastic surgeon.’

And he was sticking to using her maiden name. Pain stabbed her beneath the ribs as she reached for Kerry’s outstretched hand.

‘I’m glad we’ve caught up before we start tomorrow’s surgery.’

Kerry’s dazzling smile made Fiona feel welcome for the first time since she’d touched down on the airstrip. The hard knot in her stomach finally eased a little. ‘So am I.’

Stella spoke to Tom. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t stay. I’ve got to prepare for my in-laws’ wedding anniversary dinner.’

Tom waved at her. ‘I’m sorry, I’d forgotten all about you wanting to leave early. You get going. We’ll manage here.’

‘I can help you with Jarrod,’ Fiona offered, watching Stella leave and thinking how different Tom’s attitude had become. He’d always used to expect his staff to put patients before everything. ‘I’ve worked with a lot of children recently,’ she added defensively.

Tom glanced up, an assessing look in those steely eyes. Then he dipped his chin. ‘Jumping straight in? Why not? I’d appreciate it. The haemophilia might mean this is not a straightforward fracture.’

Warmth spread through her at the thought of working with Tom again. Then Jarrod groaned, quickly dampening her mood. She queried Tom, ‘Have you got clotting factors on hand? Vitamin K?’

‘Plenty of those. With eight haemophiliacs here this week, we’re well prepared.’ Tom lifted his head from examining Jarrod and focused on Fiona. ‘We’ll set this fracture, clean up that cut and those scratches, then a shot of vitamin K and some clotting factor to stop the bleeding.’

‘Haemophilia A or B?’ she asked.

‘A, but I’d still like to check his notes.’

But he knew what was in those notes, which went to show how thoroughly he worked with each patient.

‘Here you go.’ Kerry handed a file over to Tom. ‘Do you need me for anything else? If not I’d like to get back to the twins. We were in the middle of baths when Stella phoned.’

‘Twins? How old are they?’ Fiona turned to the anaesthetist.

‘Three-year-old rascals.’

‘You must have your hands full at times.’ Fiona pushed down on a sudden spurt of longing to hold a small child. Often, especially after she’d spent time at one of the clinics where she worked, this need would overtake her, rattle her, and keep her awake at nights. But why right now, when she was with Tom for the first time in years? It wasn’t as though she would ever be having another child. And certainly not with Tom. But she had had a baby, a beautiful little boy, and here she stood beside his father, totally confused, ready to run and hide from all the emotion assailing her.

Kerry spoke as though from far away. ‘They keep us very busy, the adorable scallywags.’

Huh? What? Of course, the twins. Concentrate. On answering Kerry. On helping Jarrod. As if she could control her emotions that easily. But she had to. Her smile stretched her lips tight. ‘How do you manage to work as well as look after two children? Do you have a nanny?’

‘I only work every second week, and my sister-in-law looks after them for me those days.’

Tom waved a hand in Kerry’s direction. ‘Get out of here while you can. And give those two bundles of trouble a hug from their godfather.’

‘Come and do that yourself. If they don’t see you soon they’ll think you’re a stranger next time you arrive bearing armloads of gifts. And bring Fiona with you.’

Godfather? Tom? He’d be fantastic. He adored children, and seemed to know instinctively how to communicate with them at any age. Another familiar pain curled around her heart, stopping her from moving. Her head filled with the vision of Tom holding his dark-haired son in his arms and rocking him to sleep with infinite patience; and the old pain that she’d learned to breathe through, live through, but never to vanquish, seized her. Tom should have more children of his own. He was missing out on so much. So were those unborn babies.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she struggled to rein in her seesawing emotions. Meeting up with Tom again was turbulent. And with past issues already battering at her in a way she hadn’t expected she felt bruised internally. She leaned into the wall for a moment, gathering her strength.

‘Fi? Are you all right?’ A strong hand held her elbow with surprising gentleness.

Sweet mama, please don’t call me Fi. Fi belonged to another time, another life. A life when this man had loved her. ‘Yes, I’m fine. I don’t know what came over me.’

When she opened her eyes again she found Tom watching her closely. She dragged out a smile. ‘Where do you keep the clotting factors? I’ll get them for you.’

His hand stayed on her elbow, sending heat up her arm. Her body leaned closer to him. ‘Are you ill?’ he asked softly.

‘Not at all. Just a bit tired, I guess. It was a long flight and I’m out of practice.’

‘Keep Jarrod entertained for a few minutes while I fetch his shots. Then I’ll take you to get a cup of tea and some food. I bet you haven’t eaten in hours. Do you still get light-headed and cranky when you’re hungry?’ His lips curved ever so slightly upward.

‘Not normally.’ But today hadn’t been exactly normal.

‘Then I’m a lot safer already.’

Was he teasing her?

Fiona shook her head as he headed out the room. If Tom could find it in himself to tease her then things might be looking up.

He returned quickly, with a stainless steel dish containing vials and a syringe. ‘Okay, young man. Let’s get this over.’

Jarrod held an arm out, heavily scarred from numerous similar injections. ‘Bang it in there, Doc.’

As Tom filled the syringe with vitamin K, he spoke to Jarrod. ‘Tell me why you were climbing a tree in icy conditions.’

‘Because it’s fun.’ Jarrod’s lips squeezed together and his eyes were slits, daring Tom to disagree with him.

Fiona grinned. ‘Of course it is. Trees are made for boys to climb.’

‘See!’ Jarrod’s eyes lit up as he faced off Tom. ‘She understands, and she’s not a boy.’

Tom shoved his hand across his scalp in a gesture so familiar Fiona’s stomach knotted. Except in the past his hair had been a tangle of curls. ‘I guess I have to agree about the fun.’

‘Girls like climbing trees, too. But you still have to be careful, Jarrod,’ Fiona admonished gently.

‘Yeah, I know, but I wanted to go higher than the others.’

‘And now you’ve got a broken arm. No doubt you’re in some pain as well,’ Tom noted.

‘It does hurt.’ Jarrod winced. ‘But it’s worth it. This is a cool place, and I’ve got new friends.’

‘That’s what this week’s all about,’ Tom smiled at the boy, genuine warmth lightening his eyes. Then he turned to her. ‘When did you last plaster an arm?’

‘Probably when I was an intern.’ Was this a small olive branch? Working together on Jarrod’s arm?

Tom manoeuvred Jarrod through the door and into a smaller room. ‘What do you reckon, Jarrod? Should we let Dr Fraser loose on you?’

‘Yeah. Can I write on the arm so she gets the right one?’ Jarrod dragged up a cheeky grin, but his pale cheeks showed he was tiring.

‘How about I plaster your mouth and keep you quiet for a while?’ Fiona winked at the boy.

‘Mum would love that.’

‘Okay, let’s get this done. Fiona, I’ll hold the arm if you want to start.’ Tom nodded to the tape waiting on a benchtop.

Jarrod’s arm was soon in a cast and resting in a sling.

‘You be careful with that, young man.’ Tom sounded stern. ‘Don’t go hitting any of your new mates over their heads with it. I don’t want to find I’m stitching up skull wounds all week.’

Fiona grinned. Her tension had slipped away while they’d worked together. It felt good. There might be a lot of misunderstanding between them, but at least they were on the same side when it came to their patient. And they’d communicated without words as she’d wound the wet tape around Jarrod’s arm. So, they hadn’t lost everything that had been good between them. But was it enough to find their way back to a point where they could really discuss the past and lay it to rest for ever?

* * *

Tom explained everything to Jarrod’s parents when they arrived moments later, anxious and dishevelled. After hugs and affectionate growls at their son, they led a chastened Jarrod away to his room, and Tom turned to Fiona.

‘Come on. I’ll show you your accommodation. Then we can grab that cup of tea before your first appointment.’ He slung her pack over his shoulder and took her elbow. Instantly he knew he’d made a mistake. To hold her, no matter how lightly, zapped his brain, befuddled him completely. But she’d looked so lost that he’d had to take hold of her and lead her along. He’d acted without thought. The desire to help her was an integral part of him and had been from the day he’d first set eyes on her in the paediatric ward of Auckland Hospital.

He kept his hand on her elbow. He could still be professional and hold her like this. Yeah, right. So much for his self-control.

‘The tea sounds wonderful,’ Fiona murmured.

Her honeyed voice sent memories clawing through his mind. Memories that slammed through his body and lifted goosebumps on his skin. Memories that dredged up confusion and nostalgia. Heat and fire.

His reaction to her shocked him. He’d schooled his mind to accept her coming to Hanmer Springs. He hadn’t thought it would be too hard to keep her at arm’s length. He’d tried to convince himself that he was so over her that she could dance naked in front of him and he’d turn away.

‘Liar.’ He’d never be able to do that.

‘What?’ Fiona asked.

‘You caught me talking to myself.’ He’d made a mistake earlier when he’d called her Fi. His stomach clenched in a spasm. Don’t start thinking of her as Fi. That was a sure-fire way of getting entangled in emotions he didn’t want to face. He had loved her deeply, and some of those feelings still existed, pulling him to her even as he grappled with her presence. Did she know how shaken he felt by her appearance? He desperately hoped not. She must not know she still had the power to unnerve him. Ever since he’d learned that Jerome’s replacement was none other than Fiona he’d felt antsy, as if something he didn’t want to deal with was about to slap him across the face, and if anyone could make him face up to whatever that was, Fiona could.

He headed out into the corridor and strove for a neutral subject to talk about. ‘I take it from what you said you haven’t done much flying lately?’

‘I’ve kept current, but that’s about all. Hiring a plane isn’t always easy in some of the countries I’ve been to.’ She shivered, as though she had a chill, and hugged herself tight.

‘Look at you. You’re freezing.’ The building felt very snug to him. ‘We’ve got heat pumps everywhere.’

Her eyes rolled. ‘It’s not exactly the middle of summer in here.’

‘How long have you been back from Pakistan?’ He still had trouble believing she’d worked there. But according to her CV that wasn’t the only part of the world she’d been to.

‘I spent nearly a month in Australia with Dad, then came home a few days ago.’

‘All that heat? Those flies? I am finding it hard to imagine you in those conditions.’

That stung her. He saw it in the clenching of her hands, in the widening of her eyes and the tightening of her mouth. Unwittingly he’d insulted her.

Remorse mingled with curiosity within him. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so rude. I seem to be overreacting to everything you say.’

Her reply was quiet, thoughtful. ‘I can understand your sentiments. I’d have said the same thing a few years ago, but believe it or not, I’ve changed.’ She hesitated, as though wondering how much to say.

‘Tell me more.’ He found he really did want to know all about her, and not because he needed the distraction. Where had she spent the years since they’d separated? Who had she worked for? How had she coped with her grief?

Her chin lifted and her shoulders tugged back, in that endearing manner of hers. ‘You’ve seen my credentials. I’ve worked in various countries where people have nothing but a tin roof over their heads. Mostly doing skin grafts over burns, repairing scars—anything to make their lives a little less horrific.’

‘Fi, it’s fantastic, but you have to admit you had no intention of doing anything like that when you were still specialising.’ Damn it, he’d used the Fi word again. But again she’d surprised him. Leopards didn’t change their spots. Neither would Fiona go to live in some of the most uncomfortable locations in the world. Not unless she took a jumbo jet full of luxuries to keep her happy.

Wait up. He wasn’t giving her a chance. Already he’d noticed small changes in her. Mostly physical ones, true. And in the kind of clothes she now wore. She also seemed a lot calmer than she’d used to be. So what was to say she hadn’t changed majorly in her attitude to life? She’d certainly had plenty of reasons to. If she had, he could only admire her for it. And wonder where she was emotionally. Had she got over Liam’s death enough to want children again? Had she managed to get to the point where she could look back on their marriage and remember the good things it had had going for it?

He remembered a lot of those good things, but that didn’t mean he wanted to repeat the experience. Friday nights had been especially lonely ever since she’d left, because Fiona had always made them special—closing out the world, tuning out work, cooking a meal that they had time to enjoy while they chatted and relaxed and laughed together. He’d missed her spontaneous hugs and the way she’d creep up behind him to slide her arms around his waist and lay her face on his back between his shoulder blades. That small act had always made him feel so loved. He shoved down on the knot of warmth creeping under his ribs and changed tack.

‘What happened to that fantastic opportunity to go into private practice with some of the country’s best plastic surgeons waiting for you once you’d qualified?’

‘I turned it down. It didn’t seem like the right thing for me any more. And as it happened, it was the best decision career-wise I ever made.’ As she talked her deep azure eyes lightened—eyes that had haunted his sleep for six long, unrelenting years.

Glancing at his watch, he told her, ‘I’d like to hear all about what you’ve been up to, but it’ll have to wait. Time’s speeding by.’ He strode along the corridor to the staff quarters and the door leading out to his cottage. He wanted to pretend she wasn’t right behind him. He needed space between them so he could put everything back into perspective. Fat chance. Hearing her trotting steps as her shorter legs tried to keep pace with his long ones made him smile inside, and he slowed down to accommodate her, as he’d used to before they’d crashed and burned.

‘Fi—’ Damn it. ‘Fiona, let me take those other bags.’ He reached for them, slipping them out of her grasp.

‘I can manage.’

‘I know, but humour me. I’m trying to be the perfect host.’

She smiled up at him, and his heart lurched. Just like that. A simple smile, and she’d tugged him even closer, had him remembering all sorts of sweet things about her.

Whoa. Go carefully. Put the barriers back up and keep your distance. Because, as much as he felt drawn to Fiona again, he couldn’t trust her not to trample on his feelings. In order to protect himself he had to remember to act professionally with her.

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